Star Wars Beginnings and Endings: Victims
by alanish2
Summary: On a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere, a young boy dreams of adventure. But when everything starts to spiral out of control, can he cope with the danger, and can he cope with what he will learn about himself?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Two hundred and twenty years ago…_

The Old Republic had stood for twenty-five thousand years. Though it had suffered its fair share of turmoil, it had always found a way to survive. It had worked in tandem with a group of defenders of the peace, who called themselves Jedi, in order to maintain its principles of democracy and freedom. However, it would be these Jedi – and their inability to see the threats around them – which would prove the downfall of the Republic.

It began with one man. A man with darkness in his heart. It is unknown of exactly how much he was aware of the role he would play, but he was the culmination of an evil plan which had been brewing for a thousand years. A plan with one goal – destruction. His name was Palpatine, but he would be remembered in history as the Sith Lord Darth Sidious.

His manipulations led to the beginning of the last crisis of the Old Republic. The small planet of Naboo was the victim of an illegal blockade, implemented by the Trade Federation under the control of Sidious. This caused political outrage which reverberated through the Council of the Republic. Sidious, under the guise of Senator Palpatine, used this crisis as the catalyst for generating mistrust and anger throughout the Council. The crisis escalated, leading to full scale war. In secret, Palpatine orchestrated the creation of a vast clone army. By the time this was discovered, the Republic was at war with the Trade Federation and its allies.

The war caused chaos and confusion throughout the Republic. Palpatine rose to become High Chancellor, and spent years using his influence to alter the ancient Republic Charter in order to transfer more and more power to himself. When the time was right, the clone army – who had secretly been programmed to be loyal only to him – turned on both the Jedi and the Republic. The Jedi were all but eradicated in less than a year, and Palpatine declared the Republic dissolved, and announced the formation of a new Galactic Empire.

_Two hundred years ago…_

The Empire had been in power for twenty years. Though it faced opposition, it was rarely threatened. Darth Sidious, who had declared himself Emperor of the Empire, and his general Darth Vader kept an iron grip on the Galaxy.

The only challengers to the Empires dominance were the Rebel Alliance. Though they did not have the military might to challenge the Empire directly, they won small victories using guerrilla warfare. Their plans culminated in an attempt to both destroy the Empire's most dangerous weapon – the Death Star – and assassinate Darth Sidious. Despite the odds, and with help from the most unlikely of sources, they were successful on both counts.

The Empire fell into disarray. Though it would not fall completely, it never again posed the threat that it had. In its wake, the Alliance formed. It was intended to echo the Old Republic, which had ruled the various galaxies for thousands of years before the rise of the Empire. Though it barely resembled the tiny operation it was when it formed, the Alliance had mostly stayed true to its founding principles of rule by democracy. Until recently.

_Seventy years ago…_

It had been hoped that the fall of the Empire and the death of Darth Sidious would herald a new age of peace throughout the Galaxy, but the past century had seen countless threats, both external and internal. The only constant throughout these conflicts was that the Jedi order, which had reformed in the wake of the Empire's destruction, played a central role.

Seventy years ago, one of the many Galactic Civil Wars that had ravaged the galaxy led to the Alliance being briefly ousted from power, replaced by remnants of the old Empire. Though the Alliance eventually wrested back control, the shock of their defeat affected them beyond measure. Their policies and their methods underwent great change. The ruling senate of the Alliance became increasingly suspicious of any unknown party vying for political power for fear that they might jeopardise what the senate perceived as their foundation of peace. They tightened their grip on the ruling Senate, and ousted any politicians who did not strive for the same ideals. This led to a political stranglehold, where a sham democratic system was put in place. The Senate would only allow politicians which they had approved to stand for office. Voters saw this, and lost faith in their government. Voting figures fell dramatically over several years, to the point where elections were only held for show.

_Fifteen years ago…_

This, amongst other things, led to the most recent threat to the stability of the Galaxy; another civil war which started almost 15 years ago, and was still raging. This time was different, though. The war was not a result of remnants of the old Empire, or because of a power-hungry tyrant. The people living on the planets controlled by the Alliance – particularly those near the rim – thought that their views were being ignored. They saw their taxes increase each year to pay for the lavish lifestyles of the politicians until many had to choose between obeying the law and feeding themselves. This resulted in an attempt at revolution. The masses rose up against the military and the politicians, initially peacefully, but as the months rolled on and their demands were not met they became increasingly violent and the Alliance responded in kind. All-out war soon erupted.

The New Jedi Order, still thought of in near mythical terms by those unfamiliar with its flaws, moved quickly to distance itself from the Alliance at this point. Morally, they said, the Government had betrayed its people, and they sided with the new Rebels. They did not take an active role in the conflict at this point. After the war had been raging for a decade, however, some Jedi demanded that the Order take action to end it once and for all. The Jedi Council refused, causing conflict within the Jedi. Most chose to abide by the Council's decision, but there were many who did not. They started as individuals secretly taking part in Rebel operations, often helping to turn the tide of a battle in their favour. When their actions were discovered, instead of backing off they elected to take a more visible role. They formed a splinter group, separate from the Council though still claiming to uphold the principles of the Jedi, calling themselves the Grey Order. They switched from a support role to one of leadership. They were denounced by the Jedi Order. In turn they themselves denounced the Order.

These 'Grey' Jedi quickly began to turn against their former colleagues, questioning the validity of their training. There were very few open conflicts between the Grey Order and the Jedi Order – the Jedi, for the moment, were still content to distance themselves from the war. But tensions escalated when it came to light that the Grey Order began to experiment with all aspects of the Force, not only those deemed suitable by the Jedi Order. This recklessness caused the Jedi Order to draw similarities between the 'Grey' Jedi and the Sith, who began in a similar fashion. The Jedi Council feared that this could lead to the Grey Order falling to the Dark Side, and potentially, due to their growing numbers, becoming a real threat to the Galaxy.

The impact that these rogue Jedi had on the war was great. They helped organise the Rebels into a singular army, as opposed to the highly secular state they were in previously. They also used their advanced tactical skills to pick out the weakest targets, and developed attack plans which were as ruthless as they were efficient. It was safe to say that the Jedi had turned the tide in the war, and as a result more and more people were defecting to the Rebels to the point that their military fleet became almost as vast as that of the Alliance. However, the war was still at a state of deadlock. Neither side was willing to openly attack the other head on, instead relying of guerrilla tactics designed to weaken the enemy.

While the Rebel Army began as the personification of the people's feelings, many claimed that over the course of the war they had changed into just another group trying to wrestle power for their own personal gain. Naturally, they denied this, saying repeatedly that the values and demands that led them to form in the first place were still central. However, their methods were becoming more and more extremist. Recently they had organised an attack on an unguarded colony of Mandalorians, claiming that they were secretly constructing and selling weapons to the Alliance. Whether or not this was true may never be known.

The Alliance, meanwhile, had continued to hold political control over most of the civilisations in the Galaxy. With the tide of the war turning against them, however, they had some difficult decisions to make. They needed to fund increased manufacturing to further develop their army. The only way they had of doing this was increasing taxes. If they did that, however, they risked further discontent, and that could lead to greater sympathy for the Rebels.

It was a delicate situation, with both sides trying to turn public opinion in their favour. It was clear to the Commanders on each side that the war was entering an essential phase.

_Now…_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

In a seemingly insignificant corner of the Galaxy, orbiting a tiny star, hung Tatooine. At first glance, there seemed nothing remarkable or noteworthy about its existence. Its surface was a simple mix of rocks and sand, with rare pockets of moisture dotted about the surface. Even its people – a rag-tag collection of immigrants from almost every species in the Galaxy – were barely worthy of mention. Most of them spent their days toiling away, striving to earn enough or grow enough to keep their brief existence going for a little while longer.

But there was more to this place than meets the eye. Over two centuries ago, unknown to many, it had given birth to one of the most important figures in history. A boy who would both destroy and then save the Galaxy. Since that time, the planet had taken on more and more significance in the eyes of all those who would seek to rule. So much so, that when the war erupted between the New Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Alliance, Tatooine became one of the first targets of both sides.

It began under Alliance control – as did nearly every other planet. They used it as a base for their operations in the Outer Rim territories, keeping their fleets stationed in orbit, and ferrying important figures – both military and civilian – around the Galaxy via Tatooine.

But they flaunted it too much. They failed to even make an attempt to disguise the planet's importance to their tactics, because they were arrogant enough to believe that they were invincible. This proved not to be the case.

It was a battle that still reverberates today. Thousands lost their lives high above the surface of Tatooine, as the entire Rebel fleet – hundreds of ships, at the time – jumped into the system when the planet's defences were at their weakest. The battle was brutal and swift, and at the end the Rebels stood triumphant and in control of the planet. Tatooine's surface became littered with fallen debris from the destroyed ships, which now stood as a terrifying monument to the shift in power through the Outer Rim territories.

And, as a final insult to the Alliance, the Rebels claimed their Council chambers as their new War Room, the focal point of their military operations throughout the Galaxy. Though Tatooine was a planet deep in the Outer Rim – far from the central systems where the Alliance government was based – it had become the de facto capital of that area of space even before the war broke out.

Many important and controversial laws had been debated in this council chamber, and – in these parts – it had become a symbol of the Alliance's growing corruption. The outer planets were the first to support the Rebel cause, and the first to fall under Rebel control. After Tatooine fell, the rest of the Outer Rim planets quickly followed.

The building itself was unimpressive. It had been constructed using the same material as the surrounding buildings, and had been designed to blend in so that the Alliance could keep its existence secret. Inside, the main chamber was arranged like an amphitheatre – over a dozen rows of seats circled around a large central area, with a gap at the northern most side where the wooden entrance doors were located. The walls were sheer white and the chairs were wooden brown, and the bright red colours that the Rebels had chosen to represent themselves had been draped across the walls.

Since the Rebel takeover more and more military equipment had been brought into the room and positioned in the central circle – a large, holographic projector filled most of the space, which was used to demonstrate military proposals and tactics.

Since the formation of the Rebel Council – a group of politicians who had defected to the Rebel cause and had subsequently been elected into office – the War Room had regained some of its former purpose. Political proposals were debated amongst the council and the military leaders, much as the Alliance had done in the same room for years previously.

Countless men and women passed through these chambers, sharing information in an effort to see any weakness in the Alliance's defence of the more central systems. Their goal, of course, was to take the Alliance's capital on Coruscant. However, Coruscant was currently far from anyone's mind. Another debate was raging that day which, unknown to all present, would have far-reaching consequences.

"With all due respect, sir, you're wrong".

Admiral Jordan was the highest ranking officer in the Rebel military. Almost all major military proposals needed to be approved by him. In the past he had been a respected officer for the Alliance, but he was one of the first to defect to the Rebel cause. He kept his reasons to himself, which at first caused the Rebels around him to view him with suspicion. They found it difficult to believe that someone who had enjoyed such a privileged life as part of the Alliance would be willing to give it all up. Through the years, though, he had proven himself time and again, being responsible for dozens of victorious Rebel operations. He was universally recognised as a brilliant tactician, able to formulate complex battle plans quickly and effectively.

You wouldn't know it just by looking at him, though. He was built like any other soldier – broad shoulders, steely gaze, short black hair. He was human, and he was old. The only clue to the brilliant mind that he had was in his eyes.

It was the loyalty that he had since inspired in the men and women who served under him that was his real gift. People who at first had viewed him with mistrust now trusted his judgement implicitly, and would follow him regardless of what he did. That made him a potential threat to the council – if he chose to act against them he would command the loyalty of most of the military, and the Rebels could not function without that. When Jordan and the Council disagreed, it was always a delicate matter.

While the War Room had never been a place of celebration – at least, since the beginning of the war - that day there was tension hanging in the air that could choke. A few hours earlier, a Rebel operative who had been hidden inside the Alliance military broke his cover to deliver some astonishing information. This information, if true, gave the Rebels the opportunity to inflict a devastating blow to the Alliance. The Alliances flagship battle cruiser, the _Endor_, had apparently been badly damaged in a battle close to the Outer Rim. The rest of the fleet accompanying it were either also heavily damaged or destroyed, leaving the _Endor_ virtually defenceless.

The importance of this ship wasn't just in military terms, though it was thought to be the most powerful battleship in the Galaxy. It also stood as a symbol of Alliance control, and the Rebel Council were eager to claim that symbol for themselves. They had barely even discussed the situation before ordering an attack, launching fully half of the Rebel Fleet. The prospect of claiming such a massive victory was clouding their judgement. At least, that was what Admiral Jordan believed.

Jordan, along with some of the other high ranking military officers, was concerned at the ease in which this intelligence had been acquired, and was dubious about the likelihood of the Alliance allowing their flagship to be in this kind of situation. He thought it was a trap.

This disagreement had started out calm but had quickly descended into a full-blown argument between Admiral Jordan and the Council Member K'Toth, who had appointed himself spokesman for the council.

"How can you be so sure that we are wrong and you are right?" K'Toth asked, arrogantly. "We cannot pass up this opportunity".

"You're right", Jordan conceded. "But we can't just jump into this. We need to discuss this further, come up with a battle plan…"

K'Toth snorted, interrupting Jordan mid-sentence. "It is too late for that", he snarled.

Jordan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why is it too late?" he asked.

K'Toth grinned. "Because our ships are already moving into attack position".

Silence followed, and the growing tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. Jordan was silently outraged – the Council had made a military decision without consulting the head of the military. Though he could understand their reasoning, it still didn't make it right.

He realised that nothing he could do now would prevent what was going to happen. But that wasn't the only decision that he disagreed with.

"OK", he said, his voice calm. "The attack will happen. But I must repeat my disapproval of the Council's decision to leave Tatooine. If the mission goes wrong this is the safest place for –"

"Nonsense!" T'Koth interrupted again. Jordan winced – he was not used to being interrupted. "The Council will be close by so that when we capture the _Endor_ we can immediately claim it as our new flagship. We will not hide on this backwater planet any longer".

Jordan stood, his arms folded, and looked across the faces of the gathered council members. They all wore the same determined look – they were convinced that they were right. _They're deluded_, Jordan thought to himself. _Good riddance to them_.

And with that he stormed out of the War Room.

* * *

The _Endor _drifted through space, limping towards its destination. It looked as though it had been in a horrific battle, and parts of the hull were still dropping off. It lurched along at barely half speed, flanked by what was left of the ships that had accompanied it. The ship itself was an upgraded version of the old Star Destroyers, which had been a staple of the old Galactic Empire when it was at the height of its power. Their high upkeep costs meant that the majority of the ones which had survived the countless battles had been decommissioned and turned into scrap. All except the _Endor, _which now stood virtually unopposed.

The Rebel attack ships dropped out of hyperspace a few thousand kilometres behind the _Endor_. There were three ships – one cruiser and two smaller battle ships. Their plan was for the smaller ships to take out the few remaining escorts that were left while the cruiser focussed on the _Endor_ itself.

Admiral Connor had been given the task of carrying out this mission by Admiral Jordan. The two officers had a long history, and crucially they shared a sense of hesitation about this mission. Jordan hoped that Connor's scepticism would help make him prepared for the ambush that he was sure was waiting. But that wasn't the only reason that he had been chosen. Connor had proven himself time and time again in battle. These many battles had taken their toll – though his face was still friendly, it was also heavily scarred down the left hand side. He walked with a limp and appeared frail, though he had steel lurking beneath the surface.

The bridge of the lead cruiser was virtually silent, other than the occasional beeping coming from the equipment. Connor sat at the centre of the room, facing a large view screen. Other officers and crew members sat around him at various terminals. A young crew member turned away from his console. "They're launching fighters, sir", he said.

_Good_, Connor thought. _At least they're putting up some kind of fight._ "Launch our fighters", he ordered calmly. "We'll wait five minutes for the battle to clear a little and then we'll send out the boarding teams".

He sat back in his chair and rested his head on his hands. He was looking out of the view screen, directly at the _Endor_ as they circled around them. It certainly _looked_ like it had been in a battle recently, but the damage could have been staged. Something wasn't right.

He looked over at his tactical officer. "Scan them again", he ordered.

The crewman turned to his console for several seconds before responding. "Our sensors still show that their weapons are offline", he said. "And that they've sustained heavy damage. They're crippled, sir".

Connor sighed. If it was a trap then it was a good one. "Launch the boarding shuttles, then", he said, reluctantly.

The shuttles moved slowly out of the cruiser's docking bay. The battle had been raging for several minutes before the Admiral had decided it was safe enough to launch a boarding party. Three shuttles launched, each carrying over twenty men and women. Hopefully it would be enough. Dozens of small fighters whizzed past as they made their way slowly and cautiously towards the Alliance ship.

Connor had insisted that he be allowed to use his own crew for this mission, and Jordan at least had backed him. After a lot of convincing, the Council had agreed, on one condition. They insisted that two Grey Jedi be involved. The Grey Jedi had helped the Rebels tip the balance in the last few years of the war, and in the eyes of the Council they could do no wrong.

Connor – along with many in the military – had no time for the Greys. They were undisciplined, and sought thrills rather than using the best ways to victory. He had been a young boy the last time the Dark Lords of the Sith had claimed dominance, and he saw too much of them in these new Jedi.

"Admiral, sir", a young crew member said, interrupting his thoughts. "The boarding shuttles are about to dock with the _Endor_".

Connor stirred in his seat. "Open communications with the lead shuttle", he said.

* * *

On board the shuttle, Connor's voice echoed out. "_Listen up soldiers. You'll be docking with the Endor in a moment. Brace yourselves – the Alliance troops will be waiting as soon as the doors open". _He paused for a moment, before continuing, "_Victory today will put us a giant step closer to claiming the final victory that we all want – the fall of the Alliance, and the corruption that it represents. Do your duty, and make us proud"_.

And, his words still echoing, Connor returned to his seat and started praying.

On board the lead shuttle, all was silent. Each soldier prepared for the coming battle in their own way – some of them sat with their heads back and their eyes closed, others looked at images or holo's of their loved ones. They knew that not all of them would make it out of this alive, and their nervousness filled the whole shuttle.

All of it, that is, save for a small corner far at the back. Two figures – a man and a woman – sat separate from the other soldiers. They did not wear the uniform that the others wore. The woman had an athletic build, but she still kept her femininity. Her black hair was tied behind her head, and there were some who would call her beautiful. In the shuttle she was sat down, but when standing she was tall – as tall as her male companion.

Her companion had no hair, and his blue skin mirrored the clothes he wore. His skin was soft and smooth, in contrast to the woman's battle worn face, and his eyes were pale green. His mouth had been fixed in a smile ever since he had boarded the rebel cruiser. The soldiers that had met him mostly believed that this was because he was good natured. The truth was that he was a thrill-seeker – the thought of the impending battle gave him tingles, and made him more excited than he had been for a long time.

They were Grey Jedi, and they were lovers.

The man did all of the talking – his voice was loud and booming, and it reverberated around the ship. The woman, in contrast, sat in silence – every once in a while the corners of her mouth would twitch, as though she were forcing back a smile. Anyone glancing at them might say that they seemed nothing alike – save for their Jedi clothes – but the truth was that she was just as excited about the battle as him.

They had been partners for eight years, and lovers for more than seven. Though the Jedi Council were recently less interested in military action, the pair followed the ways of the Grey Order, which encouraged them to go out of their way to find battle. When the Grey Order had first splintered away they were amongst the first and most eager to join its ranks. In truth, their motivation was less to do with the Rebel's ideals than it was to do with their own lust for excitement.

The pair glanced up as they sensed a figure move away from the group of soldiers and came towards them. it was Garin – a Lieutenant, and the person given the job of turning this suicide mission into a success. He stopped beside the two Grey Jedi and looked at them seriously.

"Jani. Gabe", he said. "Are we ready for this?"

The two Jedi glanced at each other and smiled. That was all the answer Garin needed.

There was a loud thud which reverberated around the shuttle, and signalled that they had landed. As one, the soldiers unbuckled themselves from their seats, grabbed their weapons and stood ready to move as soon as the shuttle doors opened. The two Jedi calmly walked forward through the crowd, ignoring the looks that the soldiers gave them, until they were stood right at the front.

"Give me a communicator", Garin said to the man beside him, "And patch me in to the other two shuttles. We'll open all of the doors on my order". He looked backwards towards his company. "Ready?" he asked.

The soldiers nodded, though some of them looked more than a little nervous. Garin's eyes moved to the two Grey Jedi, and he wordlessly asked them the same question.

"Always", the woman replied, smiling.

Garin moved the communicator to his mouth, paused briefly, and then yelled "Now!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Move! Move now!"

Blasters began to fly through the gap in the shuttle doors before they had even opened half-way, and all around Garin bodies started to fall quickly. The Alliance soldiers had moved large metal crates to provide them with cover, but the Jedi deflected much of their gunfire, allowing the bulk of the rebel soldiers to make it to cover as well. The hangar bay on the lead ship wasn't big, but there must have been five or six dozen men and women firing their weapons on both sides. The room itself was vast – it had been designed not just to hold small fighters, but much larger shuttles as well. Though there were dozens of soldiers now in the hangar, it was not overcrowded.

Within seconds the shuttle bay that the soldiers had emerged into was filled with smoke. The blaster shots which missed their targets burned away at whatever they did hit, and the smoke was making it difficult to see. The two Jedi had no difficulty sensing their enemies, and they cut their way through the middle of the Alliance soldiers, light sabres in hand. The woman screamed at her companion to get down, and just as he did a section of the far wall exploded towards him missing his head by inches. He looked at her and smiled.

"I would have seen that", he said.

She pulled a face that said she didn't believe him, and absent mindedly deflected a blaster shot with her light sabre. "You are so full of yourself, Gabe", she said.

He cut down four of his attackers almost without having to think. "That's because I'm so amazing, Jani", he replied.

Jani laughed. She turned around, motioned towards Garin, who was busy shouting orders and trying not to get killed while doing so. "Garin", she shouted. "We'll head further in. Try to draw as many of them as you can here and away from us". The man raised an arm to say that he understood, and got back to shouting orders.

The man called Gabe put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.

She brushed some of her dark hair away from her eyes and stared into his. "It's a little late to be asking me that", she said, and smiled. "But yes, I am. Are you?"

He nodded. "Don't let us get separated", he said, his face serious.

Jani smiled widely. "Why?" she asked. "You know that you can always find me".

Gabe grinned and, without answering, moved over to the wall and used his sabre to slice a hole. He motioned towards Jani. "After you", he said, while the blaster fire flew between them. She strolled through the gap in the wall and he followed.

They found themselves in between the walls, and had to crawl through the metallic bowels of the ship. It was like a maze – maintenance tunnels would shoot off in a dozen directions, and they were all practically identical. They knew which direction they needed to head in – the Force was guiding them – but the maze of tunnels were such that they encountered dead ends on many occasions. It took them almost twenty minutes to find a route to the water processing unit – barely fifty yards away from the hangar bay in which they had entered the ship.

The water processing unit, they knew, was directly below the bridge. Now that they had found their way there it was simply a matter of climbing up several floors. At least, they assumed that it would be simple. When they actually saw the water processing unit they had to rethink.

It was vast – they emerged onto a thin walkway, barely wide enough for a person to walk across, which led precariously over a massive tank of water. A large metal _whisk_ – there was no other way to describe it – whirled about underneath them, churning the water relentlessly. Though they were nearly forty feet above the water they could still feel droplets hitting their faces.

The two looked at each other, wordlessly communicating their exasperation, and then they began to make their way across the footbridge. Jani grunted as her foot slipped over the edge.

The sound of gunfire reverberated around the ship. "Sounds like they're having fun", Gabe said as he looked down. Jani had quickened and was now several yards ahead. "Hey", he called after her. She stopped and looked around and an impatient look appeared on her face. "Hurry up", she said.

He strolled nonchalantly over to her. "Haven't you been complaining all of the journey here that we haven't had any time to ourselves?" he asked, as a mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Now is definitely not the time", she said, although a smile crept across her lips as well. "Can't you wait until after we're saved the day?"

He grabbed her arm gently, and kissed her deeply on the lips. She was surprised at first but her eyes closed and she raised her hand and put it gently on the back of his head. After what seemed like a long time he moved back. "No", he said softly. "I can't". He moved his hand down to her chest, and kissed her again. She moved as though to embrace him but instead she threw him to the floor – he nervously grabbed the sides of the walkway as he hit it, worried that he might drop over the edge. Jani saw this and let out a loud burst of laughter. Then she dived onto him, and they made love.

* * *

The battle in the hangar bay was not going well. Before the Rebel shuttles opened the Alliance troops had time to not only fortify their own position but sabotage any possible cover the Rebels had. When the Jedi were fighting alongside them the Rebels held their own, but since they moved forward for every Alliance soldier killed three or four Rebels fell.

Garin knew that they could not keep this up. He reasoned that their best chance was to move the battle out of the hangar bay to give them a chance to regroup. This put him in a difficult situation. There were heavy weapons on their shuttles but Admiral Connor had given orders to avoid using them because of the risk of depressurisation, which would kill everyone there. With the Alliance soldiers directly between them and the only exit, however, the only way out was to blast a hole through them or the wall.

He told the men around him to hold until his signal, and moved into the nearest shuttle. The constant weapons fire had turned it into a wreck, but he knew that the weapons systems in these shuttles were reinforced, and should still be operational. The problem would lie in manoeuvring the shuttle into a position where it could safely blast a hole through the ship. He reached the cockpit and checked the thrusters. It was no good – they were completely ruined. That this meant they had no chance of escape did not interest him – they had known beforehand that going on this missions meant victory or death. It did leave him with only one option. The shuttle was facing towards the enemy soldiers, and used the control panel to aim the shuttle's blasters directly at them. He knew that there was a risk that the blast would catastrophically damage the _Endor_'s structural integrity, and the mission was to capture the ship with as little damage as possible, but if he didn't then they would all be killed.

He grabbed his communicator and told his sergeant to move everyone out of the way. Through the broken cockpit windows he could see them scurrying to the side. As soon as they were clear, and before the enemy noticed them moving, he opened fire.

* * *

The blast reverberated through the ship, causing it to shake violently. Jani looked up. "Did the floor just move?" she asked.

Gabe looked up at her and grinned. "I have that effect".

She playfully hit him on the shoulder. They paused for a moment, contemplating what could have caused such a violent shudder. "We need to get moving", Jani said reluctantly.

Gabe thought about arguing, but saw the serious look on her face and knew that their moment had passed by. The smile fell from his face. He stood up, and Jani tidied herself up and did the same. She motioned to the ladder in front of them. "The bridge should be six floors above us", she said. "We take out the leaders first; the rest of them will follow".

Jani pulled out her light sabre. "Hopefully", she added.

* * *

Garin and his troops had managed to move themselves into an adjoining corridor. The explosion from the shuttle's gunfire had taken out almost all of the Alliance troops in the hangar bay but the corridors were full of reinforcements. It seemed to him as though there were many more Alliance troops on board than was standard for this class of ship, and they had not encountered any other staff – no engineers or pilots - almost as though the ship had been packed with soldiers in readiness for an attack. Though this bothered him greatly, the battle was still raging and he had no time to further contemplate its significance.

There were fewer than twenty Rebel soldiers still alive, and that number was falling quickly. Garin would never admit it but he was starting to think that they stood no chance of success. He positioned himself in a corner and tried to contact the Admiral. "Admiral", he said into his communicator. There was no response. They must be jamming them, but there was a chance that the outgoing signal was still getting through. "Admiral, I don't know if you can hear me, but the mission is not going well". He paused, as though trying to decide something. The soldiers nearest to him had overheard him, and were now listening to his every word. "I think it's time we switched to plan B", he said reluctantly.

The original mission was to capture the _Endor_ intact so that the Rebels could repair it and use it against the Alliance. The ship was very heavily armoured and would be a great asset. Now that Garin had convinced himself that capturing the ship was no longer possible, they had to switch their objective to destroying it. A dozen Rebel ships were waiting in a nearby sector, ready to jump into the battle and attack the _Endor_. This meant that Garin's immediate objective had switched from attack to retreat – they needed to get off the _Endor_ before it was destroyed. He needed to find a way to get the Rebels left alive off the ship, and inform the Admiral of the situation if his earlier broadcast had not gotten through.

* * *

Gabe and Jani finished their long climb through the bowels of the ship. The bridge was now just beyond the wall in front of them. Gabe extended his light sabre and wordlessly moved to the wall, preparing to cut a hole through it. He nodded to Jani, and she extended her own light sabre and nodded back. Gabe cut through the wall and the pair dropped down onto the bridge.

They had expected the gunfire to open up immediately. They had expected to have the element of surprise. They didn't. A group of soldiers – maybe twenty or twenty five of them – all stood with their guns pointed straight at them. The enemy Admiral – instantly recognisable not only due to his uniform, but because of the smug expression on his face – stood behind them. But neither the soldiers nor their leader were the focus of the two Jedi's attention, because either side of the Admiral were four cloaked figures, each with a light sabre drawn. They were Jedi.

Gabe and Jani looked at each other, wordlessly communicating their concern. They could sense that the Force was strong with these Jedi – senior members of the Order, no doubt. They had concealed their faces – an insult in Jedi culture. The soldiers they could have dealt with, but if these Jedi were even half competent they would struggle. _How did they know we were coming?_ Jani thought to herself, panicking. _Did someone betray us? Why are there Jedi here?_

Her thoughts were cut short. The enemy Admiral strode forward, smug grin still in place, and began to speak. "Welcome, Grey Jedi", he said. "We've been expecting you. Lower your weapons." Gabe looked at Jani, who sighed and reluctantly lowered her light sabre. Gabe did the same. "Good", the Admiral continued. He began to pace around the bridge. The four Jedi had not moved. "I am Admiral Odena, and this is _my _ship. Did you really think that we would send our flagship – our most important military weapon – unescorted through space?" He paused, his grin getting even wider. "This was a trap. And we have our new friends in the Jedi Order to thank for helping us to spring it".

He walked over to a communication terminal, pressed a button and said "Now".

* * *

"Dear God!"

Admiral Connor looked out in disbelief as Alliance ships began to jump into the area, one after the other until the view screen was filled with dozens of them. He turned to his communications officer. "Get our reinforcements here _now!_" he screamed, as the Alliance ships began to open fire.

A few seconds later more ships, this time from the Rebel fleet, began to arrive. They had been waiting in position as back-up in case the mission went badly and they had to switch objectives to destroying the _Endor_. Now they were the only chance any of them had of getting out of there alive.

* * *

On-board the _Endor_ Garin and his squad were desperately trying to make their way to the escape pods, unaware of the chaos erupting outside save for the violent shudders which had begun to rock the ship. All around him his men were being cut down by Alliance forces. By the time they'd forced their way to the escape pods there were only six of them left. They climbed into one of them and ejected the pod.

The pod was thrown clear of the ship in a fraction of a second. The sight that greeted him through the pod's windows was horrific. Dozens of ships floated by, many broken into pieces, and Garin could make out hundreds of frozen bodies floating between them. Dozens more ships continued the battle, but it was clear to him that the Rebel ships were outclassed – they stood no chance, and it was just a matter of time before they were beaten completely. As though to prove his point, the few remaining Rebel ships, including the cruiser that they had arrived on, jumped out of the battle, defeated.

The escape pod was left to float in the wreckage.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_He can see the flames. He can see them flicker, and he feels the mark they make on his eyes. But there is no heat and no sound, as though he is only half there._

_He is floating high above the ground. He looks across the vast, unfamiliar plains beneath him, all the way to the horizon, and he realises that he does not recognise this place. Everything is on fire._

_Suddenly his ears are filled with noise – deafening, horrifying screams. Through the flames he sees… _creatures…_ things that he doesn't recognise. They are dying; burning in the fire. He knows that the screams he hears are theirs. _

_He feels nothing. He is numb. A terrible realisation has overcome him. He doesn't know where the thought came from, but he knows it to be true._

_This is the future._

* * *

The planet Socorro was unique in the known Galaxy. It wasn't anything to do with the binary system through which it orbited – twin suns were common. And it wasn't anything to do with its civilisation. In truth, its peoples were quite ordinary – mostly human, made up of refugees or runaways from other systems.

The thing that made Socorro so unique was its surface. It was covered almost entirely by a sheet of black sand, which made it almost invisible to passing ships. If it weren't for the gravitational field that it generated, or the moons which orbited it, it's possible that it would have gone completely undiscovered for centuries.

The sand made it look like a void, into which a person could fall and be lost forever. But it was as real and as solid as any other terrain. There were few interruptions to the massive deserts – there were small cities all across Socorro, but they were nothing but tiny dots in the sand.

The twin suns around which Socorro orbited sent out deadly radiation, making the planet a place that only woke during the night. The day was too dangerous without a protective radiation suit. If someone were to go outside without one they would die within minutes.

There was only one mountain range on the planet. They stretched thousands of feet into the air, towering above everything else around it. There was a tiny village just by the summit. It had been built there because the natives believed that the mountains would help protect them from the harsh winds which often swept through the desert and caused harsh sandstorms.

The mountains, like everything else on the surface, were sheer black. They were almost invisible against the night sky, only noticed because they cut out the stars behind them. That night, however, there was other evidence that they existed. If you were to squint and look as hard as you could, you might have been able to make out a tiny dot of light, maybe a third of the way up the largest mountain. It was two boys, looking for fun and adventure, but who had found something else…

"What are we going to do with it, Marc?"

The two boys stood back, staring with wide eyes down at what they had found. It was an animal - a mountain lion, one of the few species native to Socorro. It was lying on the ground, legs broken, whining loudly. The noise it made was almost unbearable to them.

Marc looked upwards. His tall, thin frame stood as a silhouette against the moonlight; his long blond hair moving gently in the warm breeze. It was night time, and the rock above him was just as black as the sky, but still his keen eyes could just make out the top of the cliff high above them. The lion must have lost its footing and fallen from there. He sighed. "Lift its head up, Sar", he said, taking off the pack that he carried on his back.

Sar moved to do as he was asked. The lion struggled as he lifted its head, trying to bite him, but it was far too weak. Marc approached it, and – his face still – wrapped the strap of his pack around the lion's neck.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Sar asked, though he already knew that answer. The boys eyes were wide and nervous, his soft face in contrast to his short but muscular body. His skin was dark and his hair was short and black as the rock surrounding him.

Marc sighed. His heart was beating, and he was as frightened as his friend. But he knew what needed to be done. "Look", he said. "It's going to die. There's nothing we can do to stop that. The only thing we can do to help is end its life quickly, so that it doesn't have to suffer. It's either this or hit it with a rock".

"But…", Sar protested, "We could… we could carry it down to the village. Mr Salvin could take a look and–"

Marc turned to look at his friend, anger in his eyes. Couldn't he see that there was no way to help it? Sar was his best friend, but Marc couldn't understand why he had so much difficulty dealing with harsh realities. Maybe it was because Marc was raised on a ranch, and he had seen animals put down many times growing up. Mr Salvin was the village vet, but he didn't have the equipment to treat injuries as serious as those the mountain lion had suffered. And even that was irrelevant, because Marc knew that they would not be able to carry it all the way there – not before it died, anyway.

"Mr Salvin would take a look and tell us that there's nothing he could do", Marc interrupted. All the while the animal's moans were threatening to drown their voices out. "I live on a ranch, Sar. I've seen animals who can't be helped. Trust me, this is the best thing we can do for it".

Sar thought about protesting more, even though he knew that his friend was right. He nodded, accepting what was about to happen. He turned away, not wanting to watch. Marc knelt back down beside the lion and stroked its head gently. The lion turned its head and looked at him. Marc's eyes met with the lion's wide, frightened eyes. He grabbed the strap which he'd placed around the animal's neck and tightened it. The lion struggled for around a minute, thrashing around using the legs which weren't broken, and then it went limp. Marc held tight for several more seconds and before letting himself relax.

Now that the thrashing and whining had stopped, Sar slowly turned around. He saw his friend sat still beside the lion's body, still staring into its eyes. He moved over and sat beside him, and stroked the lion's neck. Both boys sat in silence for a while. Sar moved his hands underneath the lion's head and lifted it up. Wordlessly, Marc took his pack from around its neck and hoisted it onto his back. The boys then stood slowly, and carried on up the side of the mountain.

* * *

Minutes later they reached their destination. It was a flat part, about half way up the mountain, where they often came to talk. They'd been talking as they walked, and Sar had become upset over something – his short, thin frame had tensed.

"You're leaving?" he asked loudly.

"Calm down, Sar", Marc said with a smile on his face. "I said I _want_ to leave. You know as well as I do there's no chance of me being able to". He stood up slowly. His face was pale in the moonlight, save for one large, dark bruise on his cheek. His long, brown hair hung down over his left eye, and he brushed it away. He looked at his friend, and then back up at the stars. "Look at them", he said. "They're the same every night". He stood silently for a moment, and a sad look crept across his face. "They're just specs". He looked back at his friend. "I want to _see_ them. I want to feel their warmth on my face".

Sar smiled at his friend. "Marc", he said. "This is about those Jedi stories again, right?" Sar put on a mock-serious voice, and his dark-skinned face scrunched itself up. "Jedi fighting for _Justice_ in exotic and faraway places. You can't believe everything you read. In fact, it's damn well dangerous to. I bet hardly any of what you've heard has actually happened".

"Maybe not, but I wish I could find out for myself". Marc sat back down next to Sar, opened up the bag which lay by his side and pulled out a small piece of meat. He offered some to his friend and then took a small bite himself. "Hell, I'd just like to feel what cold wind on my face feels like".

He stared out over the desert below. The land was covered with black sand as far as the eye could see, which made it seem as though they were staring out over an ocean at night. The way the light from the moon moved across the sand made it look like it was constantly flowing, like an ocean. It was beautiful.

The two boys sat still and silent. Whenever Marc thought seriously about leaving he was always overcome with a great sense of… fear. What it he couldn't cope out there on his own? It was as though he was afraid of finding out. After a few minutes, Sar stirred. "It's late. We'd better get home".

Marc laughed. "Yeah, or you'll be too late for your bed time story".

"Hey, shut up. At least I don't have to sneak out every night because I'm terrified of my parents."

Marc's face fell, and Sar regretted bringing his parents up as soon as he'd opened his mouth. He didn't know exactly what went on between Marc and his father, but the bruises that Marc refused to talk about told him as much as he needed to know. "You know, if it's that bad you should leave. You can stay with me and my mom for a while".

Marc smiled at the offer, but shook his head. He stood up. "Come on", he said.

The two boys bickered as they travelled back down the mountain, following a path that they'd travelled many times before. The sun had set over Socorro many hours ago, and the black sand that covered the ground made it hard for them to see where they were going. Marc had learned to read the stars to find his way home, but they still had to watch their footing. It was a long walk back to the village that Sar lived in, where the boys said goodbye, and even longer to Marc's family ranch. By the time he got home Socorro's red sun was already peeking over the horizon.

Ever since life first settled there, Socorro has been a dangerous planet to live on. A haven for smugglers, it had been used by criminals from across the galaxy as a place to hide out. The Galactic Alliance had recently increased their security presence there, but outside the major towns it was still a dangerous place. Most of the surface was desert, covered with thick black sand for thousands and thousands of miles. There was little wind, and when it did come it was hot as fire. Through the day the flaming red sun hung large in the air, and both the radiation it spewed out and the intense heat and light made life very difficult for the planet's inhabitants. Protective clothing had to be worn when the sun was out, leading to most of the people living a mostly nocturnal life. Farming was understandably difficult, with the radiation killing most vegetation, and rearing animals equally so. There was virtually no surface water away from the coasts, so thousands and thousands of deep wells had been dug. The water from wells in the poorer parts was often untreated and caused the people a lot of sickness.

The natural animal life had evolved to cope with the harshest of environments making it very tough to kill or capture. What domesticated animals there were had been bred through the generations from the few animals people had been able to capture. Because of the sheer amount of effort involved in rearing cattle, rustling was dealt with severely when the perpetrators could be captured, and cattle farmers were revered as important members of society. This happened less and less often, as the authorities were spread too thin to enforce the law.

* * *

When Marc arrived home the sun was already peeking over the horizon. He had spent almost all night in the mountains with Sar, and he knew his father would be furious that he hadn't done his chores. He opened the door as quietly as he could, and crept through the house. He had almost made it to his bedroom when a light came on. "Where the hell have you been, boy", his father's gruff voice said from behind him.

Marc turned around slowly, and the colour drained from his face. He hated his father, but he was also terrified of him. He knew already where this would lead. His father was stood behind him, near-empty bottle in hand, and his mother sat behind him staring at the floor. His father had a bad temper and drank heavily, which was a bad combination. He wasn't afraid to use his fists on either his son or his wife, which, by the look of the new bruises Marc saw on his mother's face and arms, he'd been doing a lot of that night.

Marc's father's face was calm, but his eyes revealed fury underneath. Marc's mother looked frightened – she knew as well as Marc where this was headed.

Marc was angry, but he knew how this would go. "I spent the night at Sar's place, working on our school work", he lied. "I'll do my chores now, if you want".

Marc looked at his father's hand around the half empty bottle. He had clenched it so hard that his fingers were pale, and his whole arm was shaking. His voice, though, sounded calm. "You've been at your friend's house", he repeated.

"Yes", Marc said. He was already bracing himself.

"You lying little _Sculag!"_ his father screamed as he leaped forward and struck Marc on the face with the bottle, which smashed on impact. Shards of glass sliced Marc's face and he yelled in pain, but his father simply carried on hitting him.

His mother just sat and watched silently.

* * *

Marc spent the day lying in a pool of his own blood. Every time he tried to move pain shot through his body like he'd been stabbed, and it hurt to breathe. Late in the evening, his father walked up to his and nudged him with his foot. "Get up", he said harshly. "You've got chores to do". When Marc didn't move his father grabbed his arms and dragged him violently to his feet.

Marc stood with tears running down his face. Dried blood had glued his right eye closed, and his ribs felt like they were on fire. He kept quiet, afraid of another beating.

"Get yourself cleaned up and then get on with your chores", his father said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Your mother and I are going into the village". He walked out without another word. Part of Marc wanted to scream at him, to insult him, to ask how he could do this to his own son… but most of him just wanted his father to go away, and not hurt him anymore.

A moment later Marc's mother emerged from his parent's bedroom. She had been beautiful, once – many years ago men had fought over her. But time – and life – had taken its toll. Her face was scarred and wrinkled, and she walked with a hunch that grew worse each day. Her hair was mostly black, but several strands of grey were starting to break through. She walked up to her son with a pained expression. She knelt down and gently took his hand in his and looked at his face. Marc raised his head and looked back at her.

"Jo", his father's voice came from outside the house. His mother nervously scurried out after him and Marc was left alone.

Marc stood silently for a few moments, and then he slumped to the floor and the tears began once more to flow.

* * *

Marc lived on a ranch. His father owned a small herd of cattle, which had been bred and reared for generations in his family. The house stood 50 yards from the closed off field where the cattle were kept. A barn stood at the far end, its large doors wide open. The animals would spend the days in the barn to escape from the sun.

Each evening, Marc cleaned out this barn, and restocked the food troughs with enough food to last the herd for the day. It was hard work, and even harder with the injuries that he had just got. He hated doing his chores at the best of times.

When he finished it was already past midnight. He grabbed his bag and packed his protective clothing, as well as some food. He locked his house up and set off towards the glow of the village.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_The Galactic Alliance today announced further taxation laws. The recent civil war and the resulting damage to the galaxy's resources have, as you will know, plunged many of the outer-rim planets into recession. These latest announcements will be a bitter blow to the millions of small businesses already struggling to cope"._

Sar and his mother watched the news broadcast solemnly while eating their breakfast. The past few years had been hard on everyone, but especially on small villages. Taxes were being raised higher and higher and people were becoming more and more desperate. Crime was on the rise as a result, and this was hardest felt in places where the authorities were stretched too far, like here.

"_The Jedi High Council announced that it is severing ties with the Galactic Alliance as a result of what they describe as 'unfair' laws. Tensions between the Alliance and the Council have heightened recently after the Alliance announced its intention to push through laws which will allow them to regulate and vet the people who are allowed into Jedi Academies, and thus enable them to control the number of people learning the ways of the force. The Jedi argue that this breaks their religious rights, and are threatening further legal action. These new laws mirror similar ones which were passed almost 150 years ago, which were challenged in the courts and quickly revoked. Many believe that this is likely to happen again._

_Onto sport now…"_

Someone knocked on their door, providing a welcome excuse for Sar to leave the table. It was Marc. Sar saw the cuts and bruises even in the darkness. As much as he wanted to hurt the person that had inflicted them, he knew that his friend wouldn't thank him for it.

"Hey. What happened to your face? You look like crap." Sar said, struggling to sound jovial.

Marc smiled faintly. "I can't help it; this is the face I was born with". He looked away, and the smile fell from his face and a distant look replaced it. Sar hated that look. He thought it looked like his friend had given up. Thankfully it passed quickly. "Hey, do you want to go do something?" Marc asked.

"Yeah, sure", Sar said. "Just let me get my stuff". Sar disappeared. Marc stood in the doorway. He could hear Sar shouting to his mother from inside the house.

"Mom, I'm going out with Marc".

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know."

"OK. When will you be back?"

"Don't know".

"OK. Well, have fun".

"OK".

Marc smiled. He'd always envied the relationship that his friend had with his mother. He hardly ever spoke to his own any more.

Sar appeared again at the door. The two friends smiled at each other and set off towards the village square. They bought some food from the local market and sat on a wall outside to eat. "So", Sar said after a while. "Are you going to tell me what's up, or should I guess?"

Marc didn't look at him. "Try and guess", he said.

A mildly irritated look passed across Sar's face. "Did your mother find the stains in your underwear?"

Marc laughed. He took a bite out of his food and chewed slowly. Sar waited for him to finish. "Nope", Marc said. "My dad didn't believe that I'd been at your house all night". He rubbed his lip, which had started to swell. A look of anger crept across his face. "He lost it. Hit me in the face with a glass bottle. He beat the crap out of me, worse than before. He's getting worse. I left, and I don't want to go back. I hate him. I hate this place. I hate my life".

"What about me?" Sar asked with mock hurt in his voice.

"Especially you", Marc said jokingly. "Hell, I'd jump at the chance to go somewhere else – anywhere else. Just for a few days. Somewhere that I don't have to clean out cattle turd in the morning and get beaten for my troubles".

The doors to the village bar across the square opened then, and three women walked out, laughing. One of them, young, with flowing blonde hair, saw the two boys sat across the square. She waved, and shouted "Hello".

"Hey Elle", Sar shouted back, and waved. Marc just looked at his feet. The girl called Elle looked at him, waiting for him to say hello. He didn't, and the women moved on.

Sar looked at his friend, who was still staring intently at his feet. "You know, you'd probably do better if you actually talked to her. You know, maybe try saying 'Hello' every once in a while. Why not ask her to dance at the celebrations tomorrow night? You never know, she might end up liking you". Marc smiled, and finally looked at his friend. "Lord knows why she would, though", Sar added, and laughed.

Marc punched Sar on the shoulder, and the two chased each other down the street, laughing. When they had tired themselves out, Sar asked what Marc wanted to do for the rest of the night.

"I don't know", he said, still breathless. "Something different. Something _dangerous_".

Sar thought for a moment, and then smiled. "I know just the thing. Follow me". He led Marc through the square and into the back alleys. He stopped suddenly. "Listen", he whispered. "You can't repeat this to anyone, on pain of torture. Understand?" Marc nodded. "You know my uncle has a casino round here…"

"Sar", Marc interrupted, "it's hardly a casino. It's tiny. I bet it would struggle to fit ten people inside…"

"Quiet", Sar whispered. "My uncle's _casino_ is down here. Anyway, me and him sometimes run a little scam. My uncle has a way of fixing the cards so that they'll always stop on the right score that I pick. "

"Sar, you master criminal", Marc said.

"I know, right?" Sar smiled. "Anyway, I've been in there too often. I'm starting to get noticed. So… how about you play my part tonight? My uncle usually takes half of the winnings; you can take the other half. What do you think?"

Marc didn't look impressed – he was looking for thrills and excitement. "Where's the danger?" he asked.

Sar grinned. "If they catch you doing it, they'll cut off your private parts. These are very nasty people".

Marc thought for a while. If his father found out he'd be angry. More than just angry - he'd be fuming. Somehow that made the idea more appealing. "Sounds like fun", he said. "Count me in".

"Great. The back door's down here. I'll explain to my uncle". He stopped just before the doorway and turned to look at Marc with a serious look on his face. "Remember; don't breathe a word of this to _anyone_. If you tell my mom, I swear I'll gut you like a fish".

Marc smiled and shrugged. "Sounds fair", he said.

Sar knocked on the door. It was opened by a short man with a huge grey beard. He looked Marc up and down. He didn't seem happy to see either of them.

"Hello uncle Elias", Sar said. "What do you say we scam a few people out of their hard earned credits?" The beard rustled. That idea seemed to appeal to Sar's uncle. He motioned for them to come inside.

When the two boys had moved inside, he slammed the door behind them. "I admire your enthusiasm, nephew, but do you have to say such things so _loudly _and so _publically?_" Sar's uncle limped over to his kitchen table and poured himself a mug of water. He didn't offer the two boys anything. "Do you know that would happen if anyone heard you?" Sar's blank expression told him that the answer was no. "_I could lose my license_". It struck Marc that losing his licence was probably the least unpleasant thing that would happen to him. "Besides, I told you last time that you're getting noticed. It's too risky for us to run this scam again so soon".

"Ah, but that's why I've brought us along a willing accomplice". Sar motioned towards Marc, who gave the slightest of nods. For the first time, Sar's uncle took an interest in Marc. He moved over to him and looked him up and down. He stood about 6 inches shorter than Marc, but Marc was still intimidated by him. He stood on his tip-toes and leaned in, so that their faces were inches apart. He stared into Marc's eyes for an uncomfortable few seconds, trying to size him up. Marc winked at him. He didn't even flinch, he just carried on staring. Whatever he saw, Marc reasoned, he must have liked it, because he eventually moved away and agreed to the plan.

"Have you ever played Sabacc before, boy?" Marc had, several times, but the old man didn't give him a chance to answer. "It's a very complicated game. I've been playing for decades and I'm still learning. It's a game of skill as much as chance, and it can hurt you when you least expect it".

Marc had played Sabacc before, with his friends. He thought that he was actually quite good at it, at least compared to the other kids at school. Sabacc is a card game, with 26 different types of cards. The aim of the game is to have a hand with a score as close to 23 as possible, without going over. The game's main feature is that the cards in a players hand can change to different, random cards, either when the dealer (or computerised equivalent) decides or when the player decides. It means that just because you have a good hand in one round it doesn't mean that you'll have a good hand in the next round. Sar's uncle spent what Marc felt was an unnecessary amount of time going over these rules.

"So", the old man said, "Now you know how to play. Next I'm going to explain how our scam works. The cards are computerised, which is how they can change to different values when we want them to. In my pocket I have a device which lets me choose which values each card will change to, so we can make your cards better and their cards worse".

That seemed simple enough to Marc. The old man chooses which values show up, so all Marc had to do was bet and win in a way that didn't draw suspicion. As long as he did that, and Sar's uncle made sure that Marc had a losing hand often enough, the other players shouldn't see anything wrong.

"I'll be playing too", Sar's uncle said. "If they see me losing just as much as them then there's less chance of them thinking I'm in on the scam, so less chance of them finding the device in my pocket. At the end, I'll take back the money that I lost while playing and we'll split the rest in half. Just make sure you act as though you don't know me". He walked over to his kitchen table and poured another mug of water. This time, he offered one to Marc and Sar, and the three men all took a drink together. "Do you think you've got it?"

"Yeah, I think I can handle that", Marc answered. The truth was he was already nervous, and he didn't know how he'd handle it. And that excited him. He turned to Sar. "And what are you going to be doing while all this is going on?" He asked.

"I'm going to be sat back here, drinking my uncles wine, giving my silent moral support", Sar answered, and his uncle snorted laughter.

"Your mother would break my legs if she found out I'd given you any wine", he said. "You know what she's like with the drink".

Sar's uncle finished drinking his water, put his glass down and looked at Marc. "Are you ready for this, kid?", he asked.

Marc gulped down some of his own drink. He wasn't sure if he was or he wasn't. "Yeah", he said. "Let's do it".

"We open up in an hour. Come back here in two, and join the Sabacc table that I'm sat at. I'll handle the complicated stuff, so you just bet." And with that, the two boys left, wondering how they would fill the next two hours.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the other side of the village, Marc's mother and father were still looking through the market. His father had just bought and opened a bottle of wine.

"Jack, please", his wife said. "Lay off the drink. Just for today".

"Shut up, woman", he replied, and took a long swig from the bottle. He was still thinking about his son. _How dare he disrespect me_, he thought. _I brought him up better than that. _The more he drank the angrier he got.

It was driving him mad. He decided that the best thing he could do was go out and do something to take his mind off things. "Come on, Jo", he said to his wife. "We're going to the casino". He grabbed her hand and led her off. She didn't protest.

He greeted the people who walked past, and stopped to talk with the people he knew. None of them paid any attention to the bruises on his wife's face.

Eventually they arrived at Sar's uncle's casino.

* * *

_Oh crap_, Marc thought. Up until that moment the game had been going well. He'd been playing for about an hour and a half, he'd managed to amass a small fortune in chips, and he was feeling pretty good. The sight of his parents walking in through the door and immediately spotting him put a stop to that. _I knew I should have worn a fake moustache_, he thought.

His father's face was a mixture of surprise and rage which, if it wasn't being directed at Marc, would have been funny. As it was, it filled Marc with sheer dread – not only because he knew he'd be beaten again, but because he was in the middle of scamming a group of very dangerous men out of a lot of credits and didn't want his father jeopardising it. He was frantically trying to think of a way to signal to his father to keep quiet, but that point quickly became moot.

"MARC", his father screamed across the room. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE!?" He strode across the room, elbowing the crowd of people out of his way. Marc tried pretending that he didn't know him, but soon his father was standing right next to him, still shouting.

One of the other men sat at the table said "Hey, we're playing a game here. Go act crazy somewhere else". His father ignored him, and instead rounded on Sar's Uncle. "Elias", he said. "I should have known you'd be involved in this".

_That's it, we're dead_, Marc though, as he saw the other players starting to put two and two together – they were starting to realise that Marc and Sar's uncle knew each other. It was just a matter of time now. He stood up. "Dad", he said. "You're right. This is _unforgivable_. We should go home right now, and you can do whatever you want for as long as you want". He grabbed his father's arm and tried to drag him away.

"Oh no. You're not getting away _that_ easily. I'm going to beat the shit out of you right here in front of all these people. This will be a lesson that you won't soon forget". His father stuck a finger in his son's face, and grabbed the scruff of his neck with the other hand. "Do you know how _hard_ me and your mother have had to work to raise you? And this is how you show your gratitude?" He slapped his son hard across the face. The other people in the casino were all now looking across at them, but were too nervous to step in.

Marc was so nervous that the slap barely registered. He was looking for a way out. He snuck a glance at the other players. Their faces were scrunched up, like they were trying to figure out what was happening. As long as they didn't Marc was safe, but it wouldn't take long.

"Hey, wait a minute…" one of the men grunted. He was big – _really _big – and he looked like he'd already been in a fight that day. He looked at Sar's uncle. "I thought you two didn't know each other?"

"W..we don't", the old man stammered. His eyes were darting back and forth – he was looking for a way out too, Marc thought. "This man's crazy. Wait here, I'll go call the police". He tried to stand but one of the other men had already made his way behind him, and he put a hand roughly on his shoulder and shoved him back down.

The three men still sat around the table stood up. One of them reached into his pocket, and Marc knew that this was it. They were dead. He shoved his father as hard as he could, dislodging the hand that had been wrapped around his shirt, and ran into the back room that Sar was hiding in. Sar was surprised – all he saw was a blur flying past him and out of the door, but he immediately followed his friend outside. They ran out into the street, with the four men chasing behind.

"What's going on?" Sar shouted as they ran.

"My parents showed up. Ruined everything", Marc replied, already struggling for breath. "Now shut up and run". They rounded a corner and slid into the back alleys, hoping that they knew more about the village's layout than the people chasing them. A shot from a blaster hit the wall a couple of feet from Marc's head. He didn't look back. They cut through a building, ignoring the people inside, and emerged in the village square. It was early morning and most people had retired home for the day – there was no one there to help them. Even if there were people there none of them would have stood up to men with guns.

Marc looked behind him and couldn't see anyone following. They took the opportunity to stop to catch their breath.

"Those people are trying to kill us", Sar shouted, smiling in spite of the danger. "They are not nice men".

Marc looked at his friend in amazement – he looked like he was enjoying himself. Marc rolled his eyes. "What was your first clue?" he asked. He was surprised to find that he was enjoying himself too. "Head for the sheriff's department". He started to walk forward, but one of the men appeared in front of him, blocking his path. He heard another slip out of the shadows behind him, and the third and fourth appeared to their left. They were surrounded.

One of the men stepped forward. "You picked the wrong people to mess with, kid", he said, twirling a blaster around his finger. "We don't take kindly to people stealing our money".

Marc's mind was racing, trying to find the words that would save their lives. "Look", he said. "Take your money back. I was just having some fun. I don't even want it."

The man smiled menacingly. "Afraid it doesn't work like that, boy", he said, pointing his blaster at Marc. "We have to make an example out of you. Nobody messes with us and lives". He aimed his gun. Marc tensed, and felt Sar do the same beside him. _This is it_, Marc thought. _I'm going to die._

He closed his eyes as tight as he could, hoping that if he willed it enough then the men would go away.

He waited for the shots to fire.

The shots didn't fire.

After about ten seconds, he opened his left eye a little. The men all had their hands raised, and were looking at something behind him. He turned around slowly, as though he thought they might be playing a cruel trick on him and they were going to kill them anyway. Behind him was a group of soldiers, all pointing their blasters at the gang. It was like a miracle. Marc looked at Sar, and Sar looked back at him, and they both grinned.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"So what are you guys doing here in our village?"

It was a little while later, and the authorities had shown up and taken the gang away. Now Marc and Sar were left looking for answers.

The soldiers were moving on – half a dozen of them in total. One of them remained. He was the only one of them who had asked if the pair were alright. He was a pale, scrawny young man with long brown hair. He looked tired, as though he'd been through hell, and he looked as though a strong breeze could knock him down. He'd introduced himself as Garin.

We were sent on a mission close to this planet, which didn't end well", he told them. Obviously I can't tell you what it was, but I can tell you that it was intense. Lots of big explosions. Anyway, we ended up in an escape pod. Yours was the closest habitable planet to us, so the pod came here. I was looking forward to doing some sightseeing, but to be honest there's not much to do or see on your planet. It's pretty boring". He looked around, as though daring the planet to prove him wrong. It didn't.

As soon as Garin had mentioned a mission, Marc was excited. "Were there any Jedi on this mission?" he asked.

Garin looked around, checking if anyone was listening. He leaned in close to Marc, and said quietly "Look, officially the Rebels don't want to be associated with either the Jedi Council or the Grey Order. But we still work together on the important missions. So yes, there were Jedi involved. Two of them, in fact".

This filled Marc's head with visions of epic light-sabre duels and spectacular Force powers. Sar looked at him and smiled, recognising his expression. He reluctantly extended his hand towards Garin. "Thank you", he said. "You and your comrades saved our lives". Garin shook his hand, but Sar pulled away after the briefest of touches and became distant again. "We need to go", he said bluntly. Garin could sense the hostility that was bubbling under the surface, but he did not feel the need to push it.

"Wait, did the two Jedi come to Socorro as well? Can I meet them?" Marc was almost pleading with the soldier to say yes – he was bouncing up and down on the spot with excitement. But Garin shook his head.

"Sorry, kid. I don't know where they are, or what happened to them. We got separated". Marc visibly sagged. Sar put a hand gently on his friend's shoulder, they both said goodbye to Garin, and they headed home.

When they had gotten far enough away from Garin, Marc looked sideways at his friend. "You gave him a bit of the cold shoulder, didn't you?" he asked. "Because he's a Rebel?"

Sar nodded, a little guiltily. Marc smiled at his friend. "The attack on the village happened a long time ago", he said softly. "And I can pretty much guarantee that he wasn't involved – he looked far too young".

Sar scowled. "Does that matter?" he growled. "He's a Rebel, Marc. He's the enemy!" He had stopped walking, and the two boys faced each other. Marc could tell that Sar was becoming more and more agitated. The village had been attacked by Rebels many years ago, and everyone they knew had lost someone close. Sar had lost his father.

Marc sighed. "OK", he said. "Let's just go home".

They walked slowly and talked the rest of the way. Marc filled Sar in about what happened during the game – that he was doing great, and had a pile of chips, and then his parents arrived and ruined everything. They got to Sar's place first, and when they did the sun was again peeking over the horizon. Marc had to quicken his pace to get home before sunrise, and by the time he got to his family's front door he was panting for breath. He opened the door, only to walk straight into his father's fist.

The beating he received that morning was the worst he had ever had. His father grabbed anything and everything within his reach to strike him with, from ornaments to tools. When Marc's mother finally screamed at him to stop he shoved her out of the way and continued beating him worse than before.

After fifteen minutes or so Marc had given up trying to fight back, and simply lay in a foetal position and tried to soak up the blows. When his father finally relented, Marc allowed a faint "Why…" to escape his lips. His father, who had begun to walk away, stopped. He turned around, a fresh look of anger on his face. He walked back over to his son and viciously dragged him to his feet by his hair. He put Marc's face close to his and said "Because you're not the son I wanted". He dragged Marc outside, threw him out into the open sunlight and closed and locked the door behind him.

Marc felt the heat burning his face immediately, though he was unable to drag himself into the shade – his legs weren't working and his arms were too weak to drag him. His leg was broken – the bone was poking through his skin – and he feared that his left eye was ruined – it was swollen and all he could see through it were dark shapes. His red blood stained the black sand, turning it an ominous purple. He tried hard to stay awake, knowing that if he passed out he would likely not wake up again. He started to roll towards the shade on the eastern side of the house. Each time he forced himself over he could feel a broken rib poking against the inside of his chest, and each time his chest exploded in pain.

Though it hurt, and though all his body wanted was to sleep, he managed to roll himself into the shade. He knew that this would only protect him for a few hours until midday when the shadows disappeared, and he knew that the real threat was the slow acting radiation which would be constantly eating away at him, and against which the shade would offer little protection. He passed out.

When he woke he was in the same position. The sun had moved higher in the sky and his legs had now been exposed to it. He pulled them close to his chest. He knew that he had to try to stand, and he also knew that there was little chance of him being able to. The barn was locked and he had no key, and if his father still refused to open the door then he knew his only chance was to get to the village – to get to Sar.

But he couldn't move. He tried again and again, but his arms and legs just wouldn't respond. Please, he thought, I don't want to die. Please somebody help me. He closed his eyes and began to weep, but he was so dehydrated that no tears were flowing.

He stayed that way for… seconds? Minutes? He couldn't say for sure. Then he heard a voice – a familiar voice, and an impossible voice.

"Hey", it said. "How's it going?"

He opened his eyes and looked up into the smiling face of his brother. His brother who had been dead for nearly ten years.

Jaden? How are you here? Marc tried to ask, but his throat was too dry and the words would not come. His brother smiled as though he heard the words regardless.

"I'm not really here", he said calmly. "I'm dead. Remember? If I had to guess I'd say the sun was making you delirious".

I can't move, Marc thought. Can you help me up?

Jaden shook his head, sadness filling his face. "Sorry", he said. "I can't help you. You'll have to get yourself out of this".

Marc wept again. Dad… he's murdered me. How could he do this to his own son?

Jaden laughed. "Well", he said. "He always was a bit of a dick". Then he stood upright and looked down at Marc, who was slumped against the side of his parent's home. "Now stop whining and stand up. It's only a couple of hundred yards to the village. Or have you given up completely".

Marc hadn't. He was close, but he was still too afraid of dying to give up clinging to life. I'll try, he thought.

Jaden smiled. "Good", he said. "Then try".

Marc struggled to sit upright, and braced himself against the wall of his house. He planted his remaining good leg into the ground and let his other hang loosely. He pushed as hard as he could, trying to slide himself up the wall. The hard and rough concrete was jagged, and it felt like it was shredding the skin on his back. It took a couple of tries but eventually he managed to force himself upright.

He stood leaning against the wall for several seconds, trying to catch his breath and to focus his eyes – his dehydration was making it hard to focus. He looked around and was not surprised to find that his brother had vanished. He smiled bitterly. I guess I must be losing my mind, he thought.

He used his hand to balance himself against the house and hopped to the door. He slammed his fist against it.

"Let me in", he tried to shout. His throat was dry and his voice came out cracked and weak. "Please let me in!"

Silence was his only response. He banged again.

"Mother! Please! I'm sorry", he pleaded, tears starting to stream down his face. He knew that if they did not open the door for him he stood little chance of surviving the day exposed. He rested his head against the door, waited and hoped. But the door did not open.

After a few moments he let out a long sigh. He was deflated but not yet resigned to his fate. He struggled to turn around. He stared out into the open space between him and the village. The distance was only a few hundred yards but it may as well have been a few hundred miles – his leg was broken and he knew he would struggle to walk.

With no other option he started to move.

* * *

Elle was an artist. She spent her days creating paintings and sculptures. Though she would be the first to admit that she wasn't very good at it, she did it because she enjoyed it. The house that she lived alone in was small, but she had still managed to take over one corner and fashion it into her very own studio or sorts – there was a table which she could use to both design and create, and the walls were covered in her works.

That she favoured doing this over earning a decent wage caused her friends no end of trouble. She could not keep any job going – even simply working in the market, barely ten yards away from her front door, she would still struggle to arrive on time after spending all day painting rather than sleeping. She had filled her head with crazy ideas of creating a masterpiece and being remembered forever, and she would seemingly let nothing distract her from her goal.

Elle was a short girl with the same pale skin that most of Socorro's inhabitants had. Her dark blonde hair, though tied up most of the time, would reach the small of her back if it was allowed to hang down.

She had spent that morning painting, much to the annoyance of her friends who wanted her to go out and have fun with them. Two of her friends had arrived early at her house, but Elle was making them wait. They had both settled down on Elle's bed, and talked while they waited for her. One of them, older than Elle and much too skinny, lifted her head off the pillow. "Elle, for god's sake let's go!" she pleaded.

Elle smiled at her and shook her head. The other girl sighed and put her head under her pillow to try and drown out the noise.

She turned back to her painting. She had been working on it for several weeks, though she wasn't sure where the idea had come from. She had an image in her mind of a vast temple, with a large central room which was the subject of her painting. In the centre of this room there was a kind of alter, and on top of this alter there stood a glowing piece of something that resembled glass. It wasn't beautiful, but it was entrancing – it glowed a bright purple, but Elle could sense that it also had darkness floating inside it. If you looked at it it was as though you could see everything that was. The thought frightened her, but she found herself desperately wanting to touch it. But that was ridiculous… it was just a painting.

Silly, she thought to herself. It's not even real. Just something out of a dream.

Still, she had trouble keeping her thoughts away from it. She would often simply stand and stare at the picture she had painted. Other times she would spend hours making minute changes, frustrated that it wasn't exactly as she saw it in her dreams. It's safe to say that it had begun to take over her life.

That day, however, she her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill scream. It had come from her friend, who was at the window staring outside. "What is it?" Elle asked, reluctantly dragging herself away from her work and moving towards the window.

Her friend pointed at something outside. Elle looked and was horrified to see a collapsed figure out in the open, without any protective clothing. Without thinking Elle moved towards the door. Her friend grabbed her arm and said "Don't you dare". Elle shrugged her off, but her head had cleared enough for her to remember her protective gear. She hurriedly clambered into it, and grabbed a second set before heading outside.

A sandstorm was raging, and sand lashed against Elle's face. She put her arms up to try and shield herself but this had little effect. The person on the ground was deathly still. She moved cautiously up to him and rolled him over onto his back. She let out a gasp of shock. She knew it was Marc, but his face had been beaten to a bloody pulp and she struggled to recognise him. I can't worry about that right now, she told herself. She needed to get him inside, out of the sun.

She grabbed his arms and tried to drag him towards her home. He wouldn't move, however hard she pulled. His foot had become caught in a pile of wires which had been left in the street – presumably in preparation for the festival in two weeks' time. She hadn't seen them at first because they had become buried underneath sand. She dived over his still motionless body and grabbed at the wires, desperately trying to untangle them from around his ankle. She twisted and pulled at the wires, but they would not release their grip on Marc's foot.

She was starting to panic, and it wasn't just fear for Marc's safety anymore. The constant barrage of sand hitting her protective gear would eventually wear it down – she figured it wouldn't last more than a few more minutes before it wore down to her skin. She made on final attempt at untangling the wire – after that she couldn't risk staying outside any monger, even if she had to leave Marc where he was. Before she pulled for the final time, she closed her eyes. Please, she prayed. Please let him go. I don't know if I've got the strength in me to leave him here. I couldn't live with myself.

She took a deep breath, and tugged as hard as she could at the wires. At first they did not give at all, and her heart sank – she would have to leave Marc to die. But then, reluctantly, the wires pulled away and loosened, leaving enough room for Elle to manoeuvre Marc's foot out from between them. Underneath her helmet, Elle smiled widely. She looked up at the sky. Thank you, she thought.

Then she grabbed Marc's arms and dragged him along the sand and through her door, and slammed it shut behind them.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Everywhere he looked there was only purple. It surrounded him, trapped him, and it protected him._

_He looked down at his hands – they were tiny, and he realised that he was still just a baby. He reached his arm out and touched the shell that surrounded him. When his small and still frail fingers touched the smooth edge, the shell began to crack. He was frightened… he didn't understand what was happening. _

_As the first piece fell away darkness and coldness poured in on him. Was this the world that he had been born into? He could not see, and all he felt was fear._

_He began to cry – loud wails echoing around the cavern that he had emerged into. _

_And then he heard a noise – the first sound he had ever heard that had come from another person. He couldn't understand the words but he could feel the warmth in the voice. He felt hands wrap themselves gently around his sides, and he was lifted high off the ground. A smiling face filled his vision._

_He recognised the face._

* * *

Marc awoke with a start, which caused his ribs to explode in pain. His head was pounding like nothing he had ever felt before and his stomach was so queasy that he was afraid to move. His vision was blurry, both because of his time spent out in the sun and the beating that his father had given him, but he could just make out a face in front of him. He could see a mouth moving, but all he could hear was a constant _screech_.

He passed out again.

The next time he woke was less painful. He still had a strong pain in his head but it had dulled enough for him to cope with. He could also see out of both eyes, which he was glad for. He had worried that the damage to his left eye would be permanent.

He looked down at his leg. There was a cast around it, but he could tell that it had healed greatly. How long had he been unconscious? The rumbling in his stomach told him that it had been a long time. He tried to speak, but could only manage a cracked moan.

"Hey", a shrill voice came from somewhere behind him. "Don't try to get up". A figure appeared in front of him. It was Elle. Even in the state he was in he was still nervous around her. His eyes lowered. She had a glass of water in her hand, and she helped Marc take several long sips from it.

Marc coughed. "Thanks", he said faintly. Elle smiled at him, and Marc felt the butterflies in his stomach. "How… how long…" he struggled to speak.

"Two weeks", she said. Marc's eyes widened in surprise, and Elle giggled. "It's remembrance day".

_Remembrance Day_, Marc thought to himself. He laughed bitterly. Remembrance Day was an annual holiday where people from across the Galaxy remembered those who had fallen in the many wars. It was a tradition which dated back to the Battle of Endor. On Socorro, the tradition was that each town and village would hold a festival and a dance to celebrate. Marc had told himself that this was the year he would ask Elle to dance with him. He now knew he wouldn't get the chance.

Elle put a hand on Marc's forehead, interrupting his thoughts. "Hmmm…" she said. "Your fever's gone down. The doctor said that we shouldn't feed you anything until it had because you would have just thrown it back up. Are you hungry?" Marc nodded. "There's bread and meat in the kitchen. I'll get you some". Marc mumbled thanks and Elle moved away.

Marc lay on his back, quietly thanking whatever gods were out there that he was alive. He used his elbows to move himself in a sitting position and looked at the room around him. It was a large room with one bed inside. Most of the room was empty, but one corner was covered in pictures. He was curious about them, and he was eager to see how well he'd recovered in the time he'd spent unconscious. Elle had put a stick next to his bed which he grabbed and used for support. He stood up and tested his injured leg by moving his weight onto it. There was still a sharp pain if he put too much weight on that side, but he was confident that he would be able to walk without the stick to support him.

He hobbled over to the far corner of the room and started looking over the pictures. Most of them were of trivial things – there was a picture of the mountains, and some that were of ornaments that were placed around the room. His eyes fixed onto one picture in particular, which stood out amongst the others. It was an image of a purple orb. There were other details around it, but Marc's gaze fell completely onto the orb in the centre. It was captivating – it was as though he could see inside it, and everything was there. He couldn't explain it, but all he wanted to do was reach out and touch it. His arm moved almost by itself, and he stretched out his fingers and gently rested them on the orb.

In an instant his head was filled with images – so many that he couldn't process them all. He saw a giant temple in a place that he didn't recognise – a place covered with rocky mountains. He saw silhouettes of a man and a woman fighting. He saw fire reign down from the heavens. He saw a vast room, filled with glowing orbs as far as the eye could see. He felt _anger_, and _passion_, and guilt. He felt the crushing weight of inevitability. Most of all he felt the pull of the orb – it was everywhere and everything, and he _wanted_ it. He could feel the _power_ that it had, and he knew that it held the answers to every question that he had ever wanted to ask.

Unseen to all but Marc, the orb in Elle's painting started to glow bright purple.

"Here you go".

Marc yelped in surprise, and Elle giggled again. She was holding a plate of meat and bread and a glass of water out to Marc. "Sorry", she said. "Did I startle you?"

Marc forced a faint smile. "No…" He took the plate from her. "Thanks". Elle moved back over to the bed and sat down. Marc glanced back at the painting – the sensation that he'd felt was now fading like a dream. He knew that he'd do anything to feel it again, but he sensed that the painting was now only a painting. He looked at the fingers that had touched it, and saw that some of the wet paint had rubbed off on them. He sighed and sat down next to Elle.

"Thank you for saving my life", he said.

Elle smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "You're welcome", she whispered.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Let's break the fucker's legs and burn his house down".

It was later on that night, and Marc and Elle had joined Sar in the village square. Sar was trying to think of ways to cheer Marc up, with limited success.

"Sar", Marc said. "It might surprise you to learn that assaulting my father and burning my family home to the ground does not appeal to me". The three were leaning against a wall, watching the square being prepared. Each year the festival attracted all kinds of exotic performers and merchants to the village, and this year was proving no exception. They saw jewellers from Tatooine, run by a female Hutt. They saw food from all edges of the galaxy.

The festival had added significance on Socorro. Ships were hired especially to help erect a massive curtain over the entire village, protecting it against the sun and its radiation. This meant that the festival could continue all through the day time.

"Well you need to do something about it", Elle said. "He can't keep getting away with it".

"I am doing something about it", Marc protested. "I'm leaving. I'm never going back there".

"Marc", Sar chipped in. "There are about fifty people in this village. You can't avoid them. Hell, we'll probably run into them tonight at the dance".

Marc sighed. He knew they were right. He couldn't avoid them. At least, not if he stayed in the village, and he had no way of leaving.

"Tell the police", Elle said. Marc pulled a face. "Then maybe they'll lock your father away and you can go back home with your mother".

There was deathly silence. Elle realised that she had made the wrong suggestion, but she wasn't going to let it drop. She prodded Marc in the ribs, and he flinched. "I'm going to bug you until you do it". She took a deep breath, smiled, and said "Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it [deep breath]. Do it. Do it. Do it."

Marc and Sar looked at each other. They knew that now that she'd got the idea into her head she would never let it go. They did what men do in such situations. They gave up.

"OK", Marc said. "OK, I'll tell the sheriff. But I don't think anything will come of it". Elle smiled a smile that made Marc's knees go weak, and set off walking. The two boys followed after her.

* * *

"This is quite a serious accusation, boy".

It was fifteen minutes later and they were in the Sheriff's office – it was a tiny building, made of wood and glass. Old furniture was scattered around inside – rotten tables and chairs, stained walls. The only piece of furniture that looked new was the sheriff's desk, which he hardly ever moved from.

The sheriff himself was a horrible man. He was old and fat and he did his best to avoid working. Since the Alliance had stepped up security on Socorro, he had decided that keeping the peace was no longer his responsibility. He spent his days drinking and gambling, and ignoring people who came to ask for help. Marc had always hated him.

Marc had just finished explaining what his father had done to him, and during the story the Sheriff's expression had become slowly more serious. "You realise that if we take this forward your father could end up in very serious trouble", he said, not even attempting to hide the distrust in his voice.

Marc nodded. He had stopped caring about his father's well-being a long time ago. "Every word of it is true", he said to the Sheriff. "And he's done it lots of times before. He hits my mother sometimes as well, when I'm not in reach". He paused briefly. "And don't call me boy".

He saw the man's expression change and knew that he had already made up his mind that Marc was lying. His father wasn't exactly a pillar of the community but the meat and crops that he provided the village were important to a lot of people, and they'd do anything they could to ensure that they kept coming.

"Well", the Sheriff said. "Let's go talk to your parents". This was one of the reasons Marc hadn't wanted to do this. He didn't think he was ready to face them yet. He was afraid that he'd lose his temper – or worse, lose his nerve and go crawling back to them.

The sheriff led the way, and Marc trudged after him.

* * *

The sheriff's fists thumped down on the door to Marc's family ranch. Marc stood a few yards behind, his eyes down. His heart was pounding and all he wanted was to run away. He clenched his fists and fought against this urge. He looked at the door to his home, willing it not to open. But it did.

"Yes?" It was his mother. It took her a few seconds to recognise the sheriff, and to look past him at her son. Her eyes widened but she didn't greet him. She looked back over her shoulder and Marc's father appeared in the doorway.

The sheriff cleared his throat. "Sir", he said, "We've received a complaint that you assaulted this man", he motioned toward Marc. Marc's mothers eyes widened. "He has also accused you of assaulting your wife –"

"Liar!" His mother screamed. She rushed forwards and scratched Marc across the face. "You filthy little liar! Leave us alone!" Marc stood silent in shock as he watched his mother round on the sheriff. She pounded on his chest. "Don't you dare take my husband away!"

Marc lowered his head. He finally understood.

* * *

Elle and Sar stood waiting back in the village square. Both of them were regretting not going with him, even though he'd told them he didn't want either of them there. They had been watching the square being made ready – a massive structure had been raised covering the square and much of the surrounding village, and a massive curtain was being carried up to the top. Eventually it would form a kind of giant tent over the centre of the village – the parts near the edge would still be exposed to the sun, but most people would be staying in the square anyway. When it had been erected the inside would then be decorated with spectacular lights, and when the dancing started they'd be switched on.

"Hey", a voice came from behind them. It was Garin.

Sar lowered his head. He still felt a kind of hatred towards him – it was ridiculous, he knew, because Garin had nothing to do with the attack on the village which caused the death of his father. Still, he represented the Rebels, and right now he was the only thing he had to focus his anger on. He forced himself to smile. "Hey", he said. "Haven't seen you for a while. What have you been doing?"

"Spent a while relaxing, waiting for a response from my people. I'm tired of waiting". He looked at Elle, who had been standing with a smile on her face waiting for Sar to introduce her. He extended his hand. "Hello. I'm Garin".

Elle shook his hand. "Elle", she said. "Nice to meet you. I've seen you and your men walking around outside the village. You're wearing Rebel uniforms, right?"

Garin smiled. "You're very perceptive", he said. He turned his attention back to Sar. "I'm here to ask you and your friend to repay your debt to me". He looked around. "Where is he, by the way?"

Sar was about to tell Garin everything – about Marc's parents, and him spending two weeks in a coma – but Elle interrupted. "He's busy", she said. "He'll be back soon. What debt are you talking about?"

"Guy saved our lives", Sar mumbled. Elle waited patiently for further explanation, but none came. Sar had already turned back to Garin. "What do you want from us?"

"I need to get off this planet and deliver a message to my commanders. I need a ship". Sar was about to speak, but Garin interrupted. "I don't expect you to get a ship for me. Just point me in the right direction, maybe show me the way to the nearest town". He looked around. "I don't know anything about this planet".

Sar thought for a moment. He really didn't know much about the world outside the village himself. Thankfully Elle spoke first.

"There are ships at Hathrass, to the east", she said. "That's the biggest town around here, where most of the trading with other worlds is done. I bet if you go there you could get a ride. The problem is there's no regular transport there, and no roads".

That sounded promising. Still, there were miles and miles of desert between Garin and Hathrass, and he'd need someone to show him the way – there were no roads or markers that he'd seen. "Could one of you show us the way?" he asked.

Elle shook her head. "I don't know the way. If I tried to show you we'd get lost".

"Marc knows how to get there", Sar said. "He's been planning to go there for a long time". He looked down and shuffled his feet, not wanting to tell Garin too much about what was happening with Marc. "But I don't know when he'll be ba –"

"Hey", a voice came from behind them. It was Marc.

Elle looked at him with a smile which dropped from her face when she noticed the fresh scratches down his face. She ran towards him. "What happened?" she shrieked, her hands reaching towards his face.

He grabbed her hands gently before she could touch him and smiled. "Nothing", he said. "Nothing happened". That seemed to be all he was willing to say about it, as his gaze turned toward Garin. He stared, but he didn't say anything, and Garin simply stared back. Elle and Sar looked from one to the other. Both could sense that something had changed in Marc. Marc couldn't explain it himself. The last time he'd been face to face with Garin he'd been full of childish glee, desperate to hear of stories of faraway battles. Now he simply felt numb.

Garin was the first to speak. "I need your help", he said. "Can you show me the way to Hathrass?"

Marc paused briefly, and then he nodded. "Tomorrow", he said. "After the festival has ended". Garin nodded back at Marc, and then to Elle and Sar, and he left.

There was a long pause then. Marc turned around and started to walk away from the square, and Sar and Elle followed him. Elle sped up to walk alongside Marc. She could sense that he wouldn't talk about what happened with his parents. "So… what are we going to do when we get to Hathrass?" Marc looked at her, and she smiled. He thought about telling her that she should stay in the village, but knew that she wouldn't. "I've never been before", she continued. "I bet we could have a lot of fun".

"It's a dangerous place, from what I hear", Sar said. "You told Garin about the trading, but not the smuggling or the dozens of gangs. He'll be lucky if he finds someone offering a ride who isn't panning on slitting his throat at the first opportunity".

"He'll have his men with him", Marc said. "He'll be fine". They had arrived at the edge of the village. Marc turned to face his two companions. "I'm not going to the dance. I'm heading into the mountains. I need some time to think about things".

Elle's face fell. She'd hoped that Marc would dance with her, though she understood that he had a lot on his mind. She didn't know whether she should offer to go with him or leave him to have some time alone. Sar made up her mind for her.

"Hey, great idea", he said. "I haven't been into the mountains in a while. Didn't seem much point going on my own". He marched past Marc without giving him time to protest.

Marc watched him walk away, and then turned to Elle with a smile on his face. "Have you ever been into the mountains?" he asked her.

"No", she said. In truth she'd always been a little afraid of them. Marc held his hand out to her and she took it in hers. They headed off together.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was an especially dark night, and a hot wind was building up. Three figures were moving slowly up the side of the mountain, following the only path there was. It was a path that Marc and Sar had walked many times, but for Elle everything was new. She would point out all of the odd shaped rocks and marvel in wonder at the view below them. All the while she held on tightly to Marc's hand.

They talked about little things – how the moon shone brighter the higher they got, how much Elle was looking forward to seeing Hathrass. Marc listened, but found his thoughts drifting back to his mother. He couldn't believe that she'd sided with his father over him. How could she? How could she choose to stay with someone who was so vicious towards her? How could she turn away her own son? He found himself getting angrier and angrier until all he could think about was how much he hated them both.

He noticed that the others had stopped talking. He looked towards Elle and saw that she was looking directly at him with a concerned expression. He forced himself to smile, which seemed to calm her down. "What's up?" he asked her calmly. "We're almost there. I've got some food in my pack".

"Hey", Sar said behind them. "When did you sneak that in there?" He moved in front of them, and faced them while walking backwards. "How long ago did you plan on coming up here?" They had reached the spot which Sar and Marc usually came to. Marc put his pack down, and Elle sat down near the edge looking out at the view.

"Pretty early on", he said. "I knew it wouldn't go well with my parents, and I didn't want to run into them at the dance tonight". He sat down next to Elle.

Elle turned to look at him. "Do you want to tell us what happened?" she asked.

"No", Marc said and laughed. He lay down on his back. "I told the Sheriff everything that had happened. We went to my home, and my mother answered. She went crazy when she found out why we were there, started screaming at me – that I was a liar, and to leave them alone". He rubbed the wound on his face. "She scratched me".

Sar had been rummaging through Marc's pack for food, but he stopped at this and looked up. "Seriously?" he asked. Marc nodded. "What a bitch".

"That's not helpful", Elle snapped. She looked at Marc. "Are you going to be OK?" she asked him.

Marc laughed bitterly. "I don't know", he said, and then all three of them fell silent. They stared out over the village below. Most of the middle was now covered, but they could see the lights flashing underneath. The festival had started. Their soft glow lit up the sky.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Sar shared the food out and they ate.

When they'd finished, Elle stood up. "You know, I was hoping to go to the dance tonight", Elle said. "I love dancing".

Marc looked up at her. He remembered how much he'd wanted to ask her to dance tonight, how hard he'd tried to work up the courage to do so. He remembered how nervous he used to be every time he thought about her and how much he'd wanted to spend time with her. He stood up and held out his hand towards her. "Will you dance with me", he asked.

"But there's no music", Elle said, taking his hand regardless. He pulled her in closer to him and wrapped his arms around her, and started gently swaying to a non-existent rhythm. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and then Elle rested her head on Marc's chest.

Sar did not want to sit there and watch his two friends dancing. He decided to explore the area around their spot – they'd looked around before, but anything was better than sitting there on his own. He walked a little further up the mountain, where a path opened up leading in between peaks. He knew that there was a cave back there. Him and Marc had been inside a few times before, but never very far. It was like a maze and they were worried that if they went too far inside they wouldn't be able to find their way back out. He stood at the entrance, staring in. What was down there? He wondered if anyone had ever been further in than them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gruff voice coming from behind him. "Well, look what we have here", it said. Sar recognised the voice before he turned around. It was one of the gang that had chased him and a couple of weeks ago outside of his uncle's casino. His friends appeared behind him, and they all laughed. "A little boy all alone in the big scary mountains. Good news for us. Now we can have a little fun". They all started moving towards him. Sar let out a cry and ran into the cave.

* * *

Marc and Elle, meanwhile, had become lost in each other's arms. Elle felt as safe as she'd ever been when Marc held her, and she wished that it would never end. For Marc, meanwhile, it was all he had hoped it would be. Elle felt soft, and she smelled sweet. He had his head resting gently on top of hers, and his eyes were closed as they swayed back and forth.

They both heard the cry echoing around them. It was Sar, and he was in trouble. Marc unwrapped himself from Elle and turned to face the direction that the sound had come from. "Sar's in trouble", he said to Elle. "You stay here, I'll go after him".

Elle grabbed his arm. "I'm not staying here", she said. Marc looked at her, thought about arguing further and then thought better of it. He grabbed her hand and they both ran in the direction of the cave. When they got to the entrance there was nothing there, save for several sets of footprints. Marc examined them.

"Looks like he was chased", he said, poining into the cave. He briefly wondered who else could be out there, but knew that standing around thinking about it would not help Sar. He grabbed hold of Elle's hand and led her cautiously into the cave. There was no light at all, and they could barely see three feet in front of them. They both tripped over a lot, but they kept going. Before long they were further in than Marc had ever been before, and they saw something that surprised them. It was a light, coming from further down the cave. It was dim at first but got brighter the closer they got. They heard voices, and they stopped and hid around a corner.

"What are we going to do with him?" one voice asked.

"We're gonna kill him", another said. "Slowly".

"I meant before that". The first voice again. "What are we gonna do before we kill him? Cut off his balls?"

"We can think of something worse than that", a third voice said. "We have to get really _nasty_. Do something that will send a message out to everybody".

All the while Marc and Elle could hear moans from someone. As though they were gagged by were trying to cry out in pain. Marc and Elle looked at each other. They knew it had to be Sar, and they knew that they had to help him somehow. They withdrew further into the corner they were in. Marc looked around him. They were almost completely hidden from view. If someone walked past them they wouldn't see them unless they were looking. He gently pulled Elle closer, and he picked up a large rock in one hand, and a smaller one in the other. He looked at Elle, and he could tell from her expression that she understood what he was going to do.

He looked backwards toward the direction that they had come from. He aimed as best he could and threw the smaller stone so that it would ricochet off the wall and land around a corner. His throw was good, and the noise it made was louder than he'd expected it to be. He retreated back into the corner again and listened.

"What was that?" one of the voices said. "Sounded like someone's there".

"Yeah", another said. "We'll go see what it was. You stay here and think of nasty things we could do".

Marc and Elle heard footsteps then, coming towards them. They both stopped breathing. Two men ran past them, not even glancing in their direction.

Now came the dangerous part. They had only heard three voices, but they had no idea if there were only three men here. If there were more then this would probably not work. Marc clutched the large rock he still held in his hand, and the two moved forward. He glanced around the corner. He could see one man he recognised – one of the men who had chased him and Sar outside Sar's uncle's casino. The man had his back to them. He was looking at Sar, who was tied up and gagged on the floor. Marc could see a large cut on his forehead, and this made him angry. He took a deep breath, and then rushed around the corner and swung the rock, aiming for the back of the man's head.

Unfortunately, he moved to the side just at the last moment and the rock glanced off his head, causing a deep cut but not knocking him out like Marc intended. He swung again, but the man had time to cry out before the rock struck. Marc knew that the other two would have heard him. Luckily Elle had already started to untie Sar, and they were ready to run just as the two other men arrived.

They ran further into the cave, the two men still conscious chasing behind them. None of them could see very far, and Marc knew that if they could get far enough ahead and if they could find a good hiding place the men would slip past them without realising. The cave was getting smaller and narrower, though, and the men were catching up. He could hear them shouting threats and taunts after them, but he ignored them.

They stumbled through the dark for several hundred yards, keeping their hands on the walls to find their way. Marc knew that they wouldn't be able to find their way back out, but he couldn't worry about that yet.

All of a sudden the ground fell away from his feet. He fell down a vertical hole, scratching his arms and legs on the sides on his way down. He could hear Elle screaming above him. He fell for what seemed like miles and miles. Finally, he landed on a hard floor, and Elle and Sar came crashing down on top of him. It hurt. A lot.

All three of them moaned in pain. They stayed in a heap for several seconds before Sar, who was on the top of the pile, finally moved. He clutched his ribs and grunted when he stood up. Elle stood easily – it didn't look like she was hurt. Marc could feel a twinge in his leg before he even tried standing. He must have aggravated the injury he had before. He struggled to stand. Elle started to speak, but he waved at her to keep quiet. If the men were still up there he didn't want them to hear them. It would be better if they thought they were dead. He used the wall as leverage and stood up.

They carefully inched their way further through the cave. After a while they came to an opening, through which was a large space. At the centre of the opening was a kind of pedestal. The three friends looked at it. "What is it?" Elle whispered.

Marc and Sar didn't answer. Instead, they moved slowly towards the pedestal. On top was what looked like a piece of glass, or a fragment of something bigger. They stood and looked at it for a while. It was so pretty, even though it was just a dull piece of glass. Each of them had the same urge – the urge to reach out and touch it. Marc was the first to move, reaching his arm slowly out towards the piece. As his hand got closer the fragment started to glow a dull purple. He recognised that glow immediately from the painting in Elle's home. He glanced at her – her eyes were wide, and he thought he could see the glint of recognition in them. He let his fingers gently touch the top of the fragment.

Suddenly a pain exploded in his head. He saw hundreds of images flash in front of his eyes all at once. He saw his village in flames, and his parents dead. He saw a temple made of stone in a faraway place. He saw a massive battle in space – ships exploding and thousands dead. He saw a gateway to a place that filled him with fear. He saw a dark figure, cloaked in secrecy. He thought that he knew the man, but couldn't quite see who it was. He felt the power in the crystal and sensed the danger that it presented. He knew that it was in his head, and he would never stop wanting it.

Elle and Sar saw only a bright purple glow that blinded them. It lasted only for a few seconds, but the light blinded them for almost a minute. When they finally shook off the lingering light, Marc was stood several feet back from the fragment, his arms by his sides, a thoughtful expression on his face. The orb had shown him things – things that he knew he wouldn't forget. It had brought up possibilities that he had never considered before. It had made him feel as though he could control the very fabric of the Galaxy. But, he thought, it had not been the first time he'd felt this sensation.

"M… Marc…" came Elle's hesitant voice. "Marc… are you OK?"

None of them moved for what seemed like a long time, but eventually Marc looked around and smiled at Elle and Sar. "Yeah, I'm fine", he said. "I don't know what happened, but it's finished now".

As though to prove him wrong, a loud rumbling started. It seemed to come from every direction at once, and got louder and louder. Pieces of the top of the cave started to fall to the ground around them and they realised that the cave was collapsing. "RUN!" Sar screamed from behind them, and they ran, not looking back. There was only one tunnel, and it was pitch black inside, but they moved through it as quickly as they could. Rocks of varying sizes fell all around them, and they were hit more than once.

By then the rumbling had grown to a deafening roar. Marc saw that Elle was screaming, but he couldn't hear her over the noise. He realised that he was doing the same. His chest pounded with fear, and he truly believed that he was going to die. His injured leg was sending bursts of pain through his body and he knew that his adrenaline wouldn't last much longer.

Suddenly, and without warning, they emerged out into the open, under the soft glow of the moon. They all stopped, panting, unable to speak, while they listened to the loud crash of the cave collapsing behind them. They were alive.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Marc, Elle and Sar stood silent for a long time, breathing heavily. Their hearts were still racing, but for different reasons. Elle was simply still feeling the adrenaline rush. Sar was trying to come to terms with the realisation that he had almost been killed not once but _twice_. Marc… Marc was slowly realising that he had experienced something incredible. The sensations that he had felt when he touched the orb were far beyond anything he had ever experiences before, and he was fighting to retain the memories of the images that it had shown him which were threatening to disappear like a dream.

After several minutes they finally began to look around them. They were in an opening – a small canyon in the middle of the mountain with high walls surrounding them on all sides.

"So", Elle said, still panting. "Which way home?" Marc and Sar looked at each other. They had never been here before and didn't know if they would be able to find their way back. They tried to communicate this to each other wordlessly, hoping that Elle wouldn't see the worried looks on their faces. She did. "Don't tell me neither of you know the way back".

"That's n-", Sar began, but Marc interrupted him.

"It's this way", he said, and started to climb up one side of the canyon. Sar watched him climb for a while. He looked at Elle and then followed after Marc. Elle watched them with suspicion, not trusting that Marc really knew the way. Realising that standing still wouldn't get her anywhere she eventually followed after them.

Marc looked at Sar; his hands were still tied. A confused expression passed over his face. "Sar", he said. "Why is that rope still tied around your hands?"

His friend smiled. "I was a little too busy to stop and untie myself", he said.

Marc shrugged. He moved forward to untie his friend, but Sar stepped backwards. "Hey", he said. "I'll do it myself, thanks".

"OK", Marc said, but inside he winced. He'd seen his friend escape from shackles before; it was one of his party tricks, but it always made Marc feel sick.

Sar braced himself. Then, suddenly, he used his left hand to twist the thumb of his right. There was a loud cracking sound, and the thumb became completely disjointed. Then he bent it in towards his palm and slid his right hand out of the rope. He then used it to untie his left hand.

He let the rope drop to the ground. "Ta daa", he shouted, and grinned. Marc just rolled his eyes.

Marc got to the top of the canyon first, quickly followed by Sar. Once they had caught their breath they looked over the side to check on Elle's progress. She was still some way down. Sar looked at Marc and whispered "Do you really know the way?"

Marc didn't answer. He just looked at his friend and grinned widely. Sar laughed.

* * *

Garin sat at the edge of the square, watching the people celebrating. They were dancing and drinking, and smiling. There were dozens of people – it seemed as though the whole village had come out to join in. Despite how concerned he was about his men and the survival of the Rebels, he couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his lips.

A pretty young woman approached him. "Hi", she said.

"Hello", Garin replied.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked. "I'm here all on my own".

"Sorry", Garin answered. "I'm not much of a dancer. I've got two left feet". The truth was that he was worried about getting attached to anyone on this planet. The girl was very pretty – her blonde hair was tied up in pigtails, and she had a smile that could launch a thousand ships. And she smiled a lot.

"I won't take no for an answer", she said, and grabbed his hand. Garin thought about protesting, but quickly got caught up in the atmosphere.

They stared into each other's eyes as they danced, completely lost in the moment. Garin could barely remember the last time he had danced like this. It was back on his home planet, after he had graduated from the local academy. He had studied politics, and had always dreamed of taking a seat on the Alliance Senate.

His family had grown up very poor. They struggled to survive the increase in taxes that the Alliance insisted on, which was why he was so determined to enter politics. He wanted to make a difference, to help reform the Alliance so that it represented the people again.

The war had been raging for several years by this point, and there was no end in sight, but this was long before Garin chose to become a fighter. This was a time when he was innocent. It wouldn't last.

That day he had been so excited. He was finally ready to make his impact. The first thing he had done after he had graduated was head down to the local Alliance recruitment office. He was so full of confidence, so sure that his ideas were good – how could they not want to hire him?

They turned him away without a second's hesitation.

He was devastated. How could they turn him down? They didn't even listen to his ideas. That was when he started to realise what the Alliance had become. Something which was afraid of its own shadow, which would never allow anyone other than themselves to have any influence. Over time he started to hate the Alliance, and everything that it had betrayed, but his hatred stemmed from his anger at their rejection.

That night he went to his graduation party, and he danced with a pretty girl. But he couldn't enjoy himself. His whole world had been broken, the dreams he'd had for many years lay shattered.

It was soon after that his world was attacked. He didn't really know if it was the Rebels or the Alliance that had started the battle that day, but he knew who it was that ended it. The Alliance knew that they wouldn't win the battle, and they knew that they couldn't afford to let such a strategically important city fall into the hands of the enemy. So they razed it to the ground. Every building, every structure, completely destroyed. Thousands died, including his parents. That was when he knew he would fight them with every ounce of strength that he had. To punish them – not just for his parents, but for shattering his image of the Galaxy and destroying his dreams. He joined the Rebels soon after, and his relentless determination saw him rise through the ranks quickly.

He finished his dance with the young girl, and thanked her. He made his excuses and he left, heading out of the village and back to the camp where his men were sleeping.

He had to get off this planet.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Can we stop for a while"?

Elle, Marc and Sar had been walking now for over an hour, and they were all tired. It was Elle who had spoken up first.

Marc stopped and looked at the moon. There was still time before the sun came up, and he was tired too. "Yeah", he said, "let's rest here".

The three had been following a path, of sorts, which was leading them slowly through the mountain. It had opened up in the last couple of hundred yards, and it was as good a place as any to stop. The black sand was deep on this side of the mountain, and Sar quickly took the opportunity to empty out his boots.

Marc and Elle lay next to each other, Marc staring at the stars, and Elle staring at Marc.

After a few moments of silence, Elle spoke. "How did you and Sar meet?" Sar looked up at them at the mention of his name, but neither of them spoke. Elle looked back and forth between them – she must have struck a nerve. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I'm just bored. We need to talk about something."

Marc continued looking at the stars for a moment. He didn't know if he was ready to talk about his family yet.

He took a deep breath.

"I had an older brother", he started. "Jaden. He was 15 years older than me, so I guess he always seemed more like an uncle than a brother. He was the one who taught me most of what I know – we'd play sports, he'd take me out exploring these mountains. I really enjoyed spending my time with him.

"My parents were different back then, too. They were more like regular parents. My father had a temper, but he was never violent – I think Jaden would have stopped him if he'd tried. My mother smiled a lot more." Marc's throat had become dry. He hadn't realised how much these memories hurt him. He swallowed, and continued.

"Anyway, my brother always had a strong sense of responsibility. He was convinced that it was down to him to take care of everyone he knew, not just me and my parents. He'd challenge anyone who started trouble in the village. Needless to say, he got into a lot of fights, and he learned how to handle himself.

"The war hadn't gotten as far as Socorro then, but the day that it did changed everyone. We're an Alliance planet, even though we're on the outer rim and they don't pay any attention to us. The Rebels decided that they wanted to take over our planet, and they attacked everyone. Our village was bombed heavily – everywhere was. A lot of friends died that day…"

Sar stirred. "That was the day my father died", he said, "Although me and Marc didn't meet for a long time after that".

Marc nodded. "My brother was devastated. He blamed himself".

"That's ridiculous!" Elle interrupted. "How could he have done anything to stop it?"

"He couldn't have", Marc continued. "Like I said, he had a strong sense of responsibility. Sometimes it ate away at him, made him think strange things.

"He was changed after that. He stopped thinking about just taking care of people, and started thinking about ending the war. He knew that nobody would really be safe until the war was over. So he joined the Alliance Army.

"I remember the day he left. I was seven. My mother cried all day and all night. When the ship he left on launched, she stared after it until it was out of sight, and then just kept staring as though she was willing it to come back.

"They changed after he left. My parents I mean. They didn't seem interested in me". Marc paused for a moment, in thought. Elle waited patiently for him to begin again. "Now that I think about it, maybe they never were interested in me even when Jaden was there. Maybe I spent so much time with him that I didn't notice.

"Either way, I felt like there was a hole in my life. I stayed indoors most of the time, when I wasn't at school I mean. I didn't have any friends, and I hardly ever talked with my parents. My father had started to drink, and his temper was getting worse. My mother tried to put on a brave face, but even though I was so young I could tell that she was hurting.

"Then the letter came. The one that said that my brother had been killed in action. There were a lot of words that were meant to comfort us – about how he was a brave soldier, and he did his duty, and how we should all be proud of him. They were just words. Now that I'm older I know that the person that wrote it probably never even met my brother.

"My mother sank even further into depression. She stopped going out, stopped talking. The only things she would actually do were the things that my father ordered her to. He got more aggressive. I don't know why… it always seemed like he hated that I was alive". Marc's voice started to crack. Elle put her hand gently on his arm. "The… violence… started soon after".

There was a pause then. Elle started to think that Marc wouldn't continue. "How old were you?" she asked gently.

Marc swallowed. "Nine", he said after a while. "I was nine the first time he hit me. He'd started with my mother a few months before. I made the mistake of getting in his way, and he broke my jaw.

"Anyway, I guess they knew that they needed help. They heard about this kind of group therapy thing… for people who'd lost friends or family because of the war. It was run by Sar's mother".

Sar took over then. "Yeah", he said. "I guess it's time for _my_ sob story". While Marc had been talking, Sar had stayed sat a few feet behind them, leaning against a large rock. Now that it was his turn, he moved closer to the other two. He sat next to them with his legs crossed, staring at the ground. He was trying to think of the best place to start.

"Okay", he said after what seemed like a long while. "Let's re-wind". He turned to Elle. "You remember Marc talking about the night the village was bombed by the Rebels?" Elle nodded. Sar opened his mouth to continue his story, but a thought suddenly struck him. "Hey, wait a minute", he said to her. "How come you don't already know about that? Didn't you live here back then?"

Elle smiled faintly. "No", she sighed. "I got here after that. I'll tell you my own sob story when you've finished".

Sar shrugged. "Fair enough", he said before continuing his story. "Well… in that bombing, my house was destroyed. I was asleep in my room, my mom was in hers, and my dad was sat in the living room. I just remember hearing a deafening crash. I was too scared to move. After a minute or so I heard my mother let out a scream… I don't think I'll ever forget the sound she made".

He closed his eyes then, trying to block out that memory. But he couldn't.

"She'd gone into the living room… what was left of it anyway… and found my dad…" His voice trailed off. Elle moved closer to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

"You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to", she said.

Sar sniffed, and then waved her concern away with a dismissive hand gesture. "She got bad after that. She'd cry all the time, and she'd drink herself into a stupor every chance she got. I was pretty much left to fend for myself most of the time. I'd walk around the village on my own, relying on people to throw me scraps of food. I tried not to resort to raiding herbage cans for food, but when you haven't eaten for three days a rotten piece of meat can look kind of appealing, you know?"

Sar stood up then, and moved back over to the wall he had been sitting against before. "She got worse and worse. Sometimes she wouldn't even move through the day, just lie there not eating. One day, a particularly bad day, I hadn't eaten for a long time. I started crying, tried to get my mother's attention you know? I tried to get her to actually help me.

"It didn't work. She just got angry. She hit me… hard.

"When she woke up the next day and she saw the black eye she'd given me she flipped. She was disgusted with herself. It turned out to be a good thing, because she was so disgusted with herself that she decided there and then that she was going to sober up. She sent me away to live with my uncle for a while… which was alright, I suppose. He was never the most caring man, but he fed me and looked after me better than my mother had been doing. Plus I learned a lot more about how to take care of myself, and while watching all the people that passed through his casino I learned a lot about what sort of people are out there.

"My mother left the village completely while she tried to sober up. I still don't know exactly where she went, but it worked. She came back every once in a while to visit me… and, I suppose, to make sure I didn't forget about her. It was good because it let me see her progressing. I could see in her eyes each time she came that she was a little closer to being… better.

"It took her about nine months to completely give up alcohol and move back to the village.

"She was like a completely different person. Full of life, full of ambition and determination. She seemed to know exactly what she wanted to do. And what she wanted to do was to help people… people who were in a similar situation to her, who'd lost people they cared about in the war.

"She started posting flyers, and organised meetings – sparse at first, maybe one every month or so, but they got more regular the more people joined. And a lot of people joined… it seemed to me at the time that pretty much everyone in the village must have lost a loved one. When they started the meetings were held at our house, which was fun for me because I got to meet a lot of different people. That was how I met Marc. He lost his brother, and his parents lost a son. They joined the meetings soon after that, and they brought Marc along with them."

"So… were you guys friends right from the first time you met?" Elle asked.

"No", Marc chipped in. "To be honest, he was way too loud, and he had an annoying habit of saying the least appropriate thing he could think of".

"And I hated how _quiet_ he was", Sar added. "Hell, it took about 5 meetings before he even spoke to me, and that was just his name. But we ended up spending quite a lot of time together. There aren't a lot of kids in the village so I guess we became friends because of a lack of alternatives".

Elle laughed. "That's not a very nice thing to say!" she said.

"It's true though", Marc said. "I mean, don't get us wrong, we're best friends… but if there had been more children around back then we probably would have never even talked to each other".

"Soooo…" Sar said, turning towards Elle. "Your turn".

Elle's smile faded. Now that it had come to it, she didn't really want to talk about her past. Not because it was too painful, but because it might change the way Marc and Sar thought about her. She saw the way they were looking at her and realised that they probably wouldn't let it go, and that she didn't really have much choice. "I suppose… I would really have used a charity like the one Sar's mother set up".

Marc looked uncomfortable. "You've lost someone in the war then?"

"Lost is definitely the right word", Elle said. She looked up at the sky and took a moment to gather her thoughts. "I wasn't born on this planet". She saw Marc's eyes widen in surprise – other than Garin and the occasional smuggler, he thought he had never met anyone from another world. "I came here when I was eleven years old".

"But… why here?" Marc asked. "Surely there must have been better places to go".

Elle looked at him, but didn't answer immediately. Eventually she said "It wasn't really through choice. The world I'm from is closer to the war than this one, so there were a lot more attacks. We saw some horrible things. Eventually, after the Rebels and the Alliance had been fighting for control for years, the Rebels realised that they weren't capable of taking control. So they razed the planet.

"We were evacuated. Dozens of transports but only a few warships… a lot of ships didn't make it. The one that me, my parents and my little brother were on managed to break through the Rebel blockade that had surrounded the planet, but none of the warships that were escorting us survived.

"I don't know exactly how long we spent on that ship. Days. Weeks, maybe. There were hundreds of us crowded into a space designed for dozens, and after a while the smell started to drive us crazy. The engines had been damaged, you see, so it took a long time for us to get where we were going. We were headed for the outer rim, in this direction, but we were never meant to reach Socorro.

"The ship was attacked. We were bundled into escape pods, everyone was screaming and crying and panicking. I got separated from the rest of my family, and we ended up in different escape pods. Ours landed here.

"I never heard from my family again. I don't know if they're alive or dead".

There was a long silence then. Marc, Sar and Elle knew that they'd just shared things with each other that they hadn't shared with anyone before, and all three of them felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from them. It had felt… not _good_ exactly, but refreshing.

"It's weird", Sar said after a while. "I never really thought about the war that much before. The only real experience I've had of it is that one attack – other than that, Socorro's been left pretty much alone. But I bet that everyone in the village has lost someone close because of it".

Marc shuffled where he was sat. Elle had rested her head on his shoulder. "Both sides say that they're fighting for the people. The Alliance think that they're trying to uphold an honourable tradition that dates back to when the Empire fell, and the Rebels think that the way to help people is to force revolution. But they forget that the people who suffer the most from wars are the ordinary folk - the people that they claim to be fighting for. In reality, the only reason for going to war is because one side has something that the other side wants. In this case it's power - the power to govern and the power to control people. The Rebels desire it, and the Alliance doesn't want to lose it".

Another moment of silence followed. Suddenly, Sar stood. "We need to get going", he said. "It'll be light soon". Marc stood and indicated the direction that they should walk in.

"Marc", Elle said. "Do you _really_ know the way? Or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

Marc smiled. "I've been coming out to these mountains for years. I've memorised the stars. I know which stars are in what direction and the stars that are over our village are in that direction. I think we're pretty close".

* * *

It took them another twenty minutes or so before they started to recognise parts of the landscape, and another twenty to get back to the village. They didn't talk much on the way – there didn't seem to be anything else to say.

When they were near the village, a figure approached them from out of the shadows. It was Garin.

"Have you had fun tonight?" he asked.

The three friends looked at each other. Now that he thought about it, Marc was surprised to find that he had enjoyed the evening. He'd finally experienced a little bit of the adventure that he'd been craving for so long. Still, none of them answered Garin.

"You still remember our arrangement, don't you?" he continued. "Tomorrow I'm going to secure transport, and we'll leave for Hathrass as soon as possible. OK?"

Marc nodded. Garin seemed satisfied. He waved goodbye, and turned to walk away.

"Wait", Elle called after him. "Mr Graves is probably the best person to talk to about buying a vehicle. He has a shop at the south side of the village square".

Garin nodded his appreciation for the advice, and then he left.

Marc turned to face Elle and Sar. "Are you sure that you both want to come with us?" he asked, though he knew the answer they would give. "It really could be dangerous. I've never actually been there, but I've heard that Hathrass is full of nasty people".

Neither of them even stopped to think before they answered. They both said that they would go with him.

They stood and watched Garin as he left. Sar didn't trust him, Marc knew, and Elle was only going along because she wanted to be with Marc. Two weeks ago, the thought that she might care about him that much would have filled him with joy. Now he was just frightened. Frightened that she would get hurt because of him. Frightened that Sar was right, and that Garin would leave them as soon as he got what he wanted. Most of all, though, he was frightened at how much he wanted to touch that fragment again, and how _powerful_ it had made him feel.

Marc suddenly realised that they had been standing in silence for several minutes. He turned to see the others staring at him.

"Are you OK?" Elle asked, a concerned expression on her pretty face. Marc simply smiled and nodded.

Sar slammed his hand down on Marc's shoulder and grinned. "Well", he said. "I'm shattered. I'm going to go home and sleep for the next three weeks". He turned to leave, but stopped, as though he had just thought of something. "Seriously, though, don't you dare leave without me. If I'm still sleeping then you'd better wake me up".

Marc and Elle looked at each other. "We will", they said in unison.

"You damn well better", Sar continued. "Or I swear I'll hunt you down". With that, he waved and headed home.

Elle slowly moved over to Marc and put her hand in his. He looked at her, deep into her eyes, and he kissed her passionately.

* * *

"Mom, I'm home", Sar yelled as he slammed the door to his home behind him. He heard him mother in the living room.

"Hi honey", she called. "Did you have fun?"

Sar thought about his answer. "Yeah, it was OK", he called back. "I'm going to my room".

"OK", his mother replied. "I'll cook you some food. It'll be ready soon".

"Thanks". Sar hurried into his room and closed the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, looking around. Then he rushed over to his window and closed the curtains. He didn't want anyone seeing him.

When he was satisfied that no one could possibly see into his room, he smiled. He put his hand into his pocket and he pulled out the fragment from the mountain. Before they had escaped, he had grabbed it from where it stood and shoved it into his pocket. Though he didn't have the same desire for it as Marc he still wanted to know what it was.

He opened a drawer and shoved it in.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Marc opened his eyes to see Elle's face smiling down at him. After parting with Sar they had gone straight to Elle's home, and they collapsed on her bed together.

"Hi, sleepyhead", she said, still smiling. Marc smiled widely back at her, and kissed her on the lips.

He sat up on the bed. "What time is it?" he asked.

"It's already past midnight. You must have been really tired", Elle replied. Marc noticed for the first time that she was already dressed. She slid off the bed and headed to the kitchen. "I'll fix you something for breakfast".

"Thanks", Marc called after her. He was left alone in the bedroom. Despite sleeping for so long, he still felt tired. He lay back down and started to think about the events of the night before. The memories were already starting to fade – it felt… like it hadn't been real.

Then his mind fixed on something. Something that had slipped his mind until then. He stood up quickly and strode over to the corner of the room which Elle used as her studio. He was looking for the painting that he had seen the first time he came here. The painting that he had thought of when the fragment in the mountains had started to glow. He was sure that Elle's painting was the same orb that they had found.

He found the painting at the bottom of a pile. He picked it up, and stared at it in disbelief. No, he thought to himself. This isn't right. This can't be right.

The painting he held in his hands had no orb in it. Where it had been – or rather, where Marc thought it had been – was an empty space. All the painting showed now was an empty room, and an empty pedestal. Though the fragment had gone, the surrounding room in the painting was almost definitely the one that they had been in the night before.

"Elle!" he shouted. "Elle, come here and look at this".

Elle came quickly out of the kitchen, a worried look on her face. "What?" she asked. "What is it?" Marc indicated to the painting, and Elle moved over to look at it. She studied it for a while, and then said "So? It's my painting, the same as it's always been".

Marc stared in disbelief at her for several seconds. "But… but…" he stammered. "There was a purple thing in the centre… don't you remember?"

A concerned look passed over Elle's face. She put her hand on his forehead. "Are you coming down with a fever?" she asked. "I'll get you some medicine". And with that, she left.

Marc didn't understand. He was certain that the painting had an image of the orb fragment in the middle. He remembered being hypnotised by it the first time he'd seen it. He remembered reaching out and touching it.

He looked down at his fingers. They still had a purple stain from the wet paint that had rubbed off on them the day before.

* * *

"So, we're really leaving?"

It was almost an hour later, and Marc and Elle had finished eating and were starting to realise that this was going to be their last day in the village. That realisation was starting to make Elle feel sad.

"Yeah, I guess", Marc answered. He was busy packing his bag – he was struggling to think of all the things that they might need. He felt responsible for both Elle and Sar's well-being, considering that they were only going along for him. He stopped for a moment and looked at Elle. "This is our last day here. I don't have any regrets. Do you?"

Elle looked back at him and smiled. "No", she answered. "None at all". She wondered over and sat next to him. "So… what do you want to do for our last day here?"

Marc thought for a moment. "I don't mind what we do, as long as I'm with you". This brought a wide smile to Elle's face, and she leaned forward and kissed him.

"Let's have a picnic", she said.

* * *

Garin pushed open the door to Mr Graves's shop, ignoring the large sign on the door that said Closed. The room he entered was dark and dirty. There were shelves along each wall, and each shelf was packed with various spare parts for anything from cookers to high powered rifles. Mr Graves, it seemed, was quite the collector. There was no one else there, so Garin took the opportunity to see if there was anything on the shelves worth acquiring.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" The voice was deep and rough, and it came from behin Garin. He turned to face an old man. Well, old wasn't the word; he looked positively ancient, and so frail that a strong gust of wind might cause him to crumple.

Garin didn't feel comfortable around old people; to him, they only served as a reminder that, as hard as he fought to stay alive, he would die someday like everyone else. He forced himself to smile. "Mr Graves?" he asked.

"Are you blind, son?" the man said, ignoring Garin's question completely. "The sign says closed, so fuck off".

The son grated on Garin, but he was determined to stay polite, as hard as that might be. After all, as much as he hated to admit it this man was, at the moment, the only hope he had of getting where he wanted to be. "Mr Graves", he said, his voice still perfectly calm. "I've come to ask you for a favour. I need to acquire a vehicle. One that can get me and several others to Hathrass, and do it as quickly as possible".

"And this couldn't have waited two hours 'till the shop actually opened?" Graves said. Clearly, this man was not in a friendly mood. "You didn't even knock". He paused for a while, looking Garin up and down. Eventually he seemed to come to a decision. "I've got a vehicle that will do you. Twenty thousand credits".

Garin winced. He didn't have any credits either way, but twenty thousand was extortionate. He was beginning to take a real disliking to this man. "I don't have any credits", he said. Graves made an exasperated expression, and was about to speak when Garin continued. "I don't have any credits", he repeated. "But I do have a lot of high quality equipment that I'm ready to trade. I can see that you're into collecting things like that, and I guarantee that what I have is better than anything in your shop".

Graves appeared to consider this. "What sort of equipment?" he asked eventually.

"Weapons – army quality weapons – and anything we can scavenge from our ship that crashed near here… computer terminals, and things like that". Garin knew that he'd exaggerated about his ship; in reality, all the escape pod was good for now was scrap metal. He was confident that he had enough to trade for one vehicle, though.

Graves stood there with a contemptuous look on his face that made Garin want to punch him. Garin knew that the offer he'd made was more than fair, but the old man seemed determined to try and squeeze him for everything he could. Eventually, Graves spoke. "Hmmm… how about this. There's someone who lives across the village who owes me a lot of money; some equipment I leant to them mysteriously went missing. If you get me my money, then we'll talk about the ship you're wanting".

Garin sighed, exasperated. The last thing he wanted was to do this detestable man any favours, but he knew it was either that or take the vehicle by force. "So…" he said. "I get you the money, you give me the ship?"

Graves laughed; a sound that grated on Garin. "No", Graves said. "You get me the money, then I'll look at what you have to trade".

"Where can I find this person?"

* * *

Garin stood outside the building he had been directed to by Graves. He read the sign above the door. He read it again, just to check if he was missing something. There was no getting away from it; this place was an orphanage. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that Garin had felt since he agreed to do this started to get a lot worse. Was he really going to demand money from these people? Money that he didn't know for sure they actually owed? He decided that the first thing he should do is look around inside.

There were over a dozen children inside, and 3 adults that he could see – an old but well-built man and two women. The place was clearly run down – it seemed there wasn't much support being given from outside – but the children were all smiling. Garin considered leaving there and then; he would try and convince Graves to trade with him regardless. That thought passed quickly, though; Graves was clearly a less than friendly person, and Garin was sure that he would refuse to trade if he didn't return with the money.

He approached the woman closest to him. She was short, and looked as though she was twice the age of Garin. She was quite well dressed and looked as though she spent a lot of time making sure that she appeared professional; however, her eyes gave away how tired she was. He wondered briefly why all of the people in the village seemed to either be children or the elderly, but he had to cut his musings short; the woman had seen him, and now stood smiling, waiting for him to speak.

"Um… hello", he said, reluctantly. He knew that she was expecting more from him, but he couldn't think of the right words to say.

She waited patiently for a while, but when it became clear that he was not going to continue, she decided to speak. "Are you… thinking of adopting a child?" she asked.

Garin saw an opportunity to look the place over in more detail, as well as a way to buy himself a little more thinking time. He was desperately seeking an excuse to leave this place alone. "Yes", he said quickly. After a brief pause he added, "Looking to expand the family, you know?"

This brought a broad smile to the woman's face. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. She moved from behind the desk she had been stood beside and held out her hand to Garin, who shook it hesitantly. "I'm sure you and your wife will make good parents to one of the children here".

Garin was then introduced to the three adults who ran the orphanage. The woman who he had been talking to was called Amanda, and she was the founder of the orphanage. She had dark grey hair which was tied up behind her head. She was the person who greeted the people who were interested in adopting a child, and was also responsible for deciding if a potential parent was suitable. The other woman in the building was called Emily, and she was much younger than Amanda – Garin guessed that she was about the same age as Marc; around fifteen. She had long blonde hair and wore a stern look on her face. Her role was to try and ensure that they always had enough food and clothing for all of the children; something which, she told Garin, was becoming increasingly difficult as time went by. The large man that Marc had seen earlier was called Toth; he had a loud booming voice and a very strong handshake, but he came across as friendly. His role was to maintain the building and watch the children while the others were away.

They came across as a very friendly and enthusiastic group, and the children all seemed to have bonded with each of them. As Garin was shown around the building he saw cramped bedrooms, with perhaps four children occupying a space of only a few square yards. The rooms were well maintained, but the furniture and equipment was clearly very old and very used.

Garin was still trying to think of the right way to bring up the real reason he was here, and he knew that the time was approaching when he would not have a choice. He decided that he should simply come out and say it.

"So", Amanda said after they had finished showing him around the building. "Would you like to meet some of the children?"

Garin paused, a strained look appearing on his face. "No", he said finally, "I wouldn't". A mildly worried and confused expression appeared on all three faces. "I'm sorry", Garin continued, "but I was never here for an adoption".

The three people opposite him looked at each other briefly. Then Amanda asked "Then why are you here?"

Garin shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. "Uh", he said, "Mr Graves asked me to come and speak to you".

Anger flashed in the eyes of Toth, and he stepped forward. "You tell that son of a bitch that we don't owe him anything".

"He…" Garin stammered, "he says that you owe him some money?"

"We paid him everything we borrowed", Amanda said, sternly. "He's trying to extort more out of us than we owe, and more than we have".

"So you crawl back to him and tell him that he can shove all of his threats up his ass", Toth shouted. "Now get the hell out before I throw you out!"

Garin had no intention of trying to force these people to give up money that they obviously needed, even though he knew that he would have no problem handling Toth. He chose to leave, giving them the briefest of nods before he left.

* * *

On his way back to Graves's shop Garin thought about how to handle the conversation he was about to have. He was almost positive that without the money Graves would not trade with him, even though the goods he was offering were perfectly reasonable. Graves just had this horrible manner about him, as though he was so convinced that he was always right. People like that can be very dangerous, and they very rarely changed their minds.

Garin sighed. He would have to try to reason with him. When that didn't work, he would have to resort to threats. He didn't like intimidating people; it always left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. But he was prepared to do it if his other options had been exhausted.

He pushed open the door to the shop and saw Graves stood behind the counter, the same spot he was in when Garin had left. He strode towards him, and put his hands on the counter, standing face to face with the old man.

"They said that they'd already paid you", he said, his voice calm.

Graves grinned his horrible grin. "They haven't paid me the interest", he said quietly. The smile on his face was making Garin angry, but he forced himself to remain calm.

"Whatever", he said, trying to sound as though it was unimportant. "We can trade without the money".

"No", Graves said bluntly, "we can't".

"Look", Garin said, still trying to be reasonable but losing his temper fast. "All I want to do is trade. You're a businessman, right? How can you justify refusing a fair trade?"

Graves still just stood there, arms folded, faintly amused smirk on his face. "The money was part of the trade", he said. "And you failed to deliver. Why should I trust you when you can't live up to your promises?"

Garin had no answer. He simply stood there with an astonished expression on his face.

Garin leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "I guess now I'll have to hire someone to make those fuckers pay", he growled. "Maybe have their way with that pretty young girl… Emily was it? Then I think they'll do anything I tell them to".

Garin snapped. He dived over the counter and hit Graves hard across the face. The old man crumpled backwards with a grunt and lay motionless on the floor.

The adrenaline was still pumping through Garin, but he immediately realised what he'd done. Graves didn't move – not even his chest was moving, as it would if he were still breathing. That horrible feeling that had been in Garin's stomach came back, only this time much worse. "Graves", he said quietly, before kneeling down and shaking him. There was no response. He was dead.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The moon hung big and beautiful in the sky that night, casting a bright glow on the black sand of the planet below. It looked as though the light was dancing – every speck of dust in the air caught the light, so the glow on the ground was always moving.

Marc and Elle walked along the newly formed sand dunes just outside the village. The landscape constantly changed with each sandstorm, the last of which had come barely two weeks ago. Marc enjoyed exploring every change, however subtle; perhaps a new piece of land had emerged from beneath the sand, or a tree. Anything that was different to before, that would distract him from the perceived monotony of his life. Elle also enjoyed the changes; they reminded her just how alien this world still was for her. It had been four years since she came here, but she knew very little about the planet outside of the village.

The held hands as they walked, Marc sometimes needing to help her as they climbed the sand dunes.

They climbed to the top of the highest one they could find, where they stopped and decided to rest. Marc unpacked a sheet from his pack and laid it out on the ground. On top of it he placed the food that they had packed – bread and meat, some water, and some alien delicacies which they had bought from one of the market stalls before they left.

Elle sat close to Marc, leaning on his shoulder while they ate. They spoke little, preferring instead to simply enjoy each other's company. Marc finished eating before Elle, and he wrapped his arm around her while he waited for her to finish.

"Tell me about the world you grew up on", he said to her softly.

Elle looked up at him and smiled faintly. She hadn't talked to anyone about her home or her family for a long time, but she wanted to share her past with him.

"It was more of a moon, actually", she said. "One of Corellia's moons. It was a beautiful place… the surface was covered with one big city. People used to compare it to how Curiscant was in all of the stories about the old republic – towering buildings, a bustling metropolis. In the last century the moons around Corellia have all been converted into a kind of… rich person's paradise. Far more luxurious than the planet below".

Marc looked at her, listening silently. He would never have believed that she had ever lived in high society. How did she bear her life now, where she had to struggle just to eat? He guessed that it must have made it doubly hard for her; not only did she lose her family but she was thrown into a lifestyle that was completely unfamiliar to her.

"My father owned a fairly large mining company, which had opened mines on lots of planets throughout the galaxy. They were the main suppliers of the raw materials that the Alliance uses for their ships, weapons and equipment. Our lives were easy.

"When the war broke out, long before I was born, my mother and father had only recently married. They lived on the surface of Corellia, and my father owned just one mine. Because of the conflict, demand for the materials he was mining for grew and he quickly gained a fortune. I was _born_ into a life of luxury".

Elle looked sad for a moment, and Marc, who still had his arm wrapped around her, pulled her tight towards him and kissed her on the top of her head.

"When the Rebels attacked we panicked. There was no military presence there… we were completely defenceless. I saw my friends… die". Tears began to stream down her face, and her voice began to quiver. "We barely made it to the escape ships. We were lucky… we all knew it.

"But it didn't last".

She fell silent. Marc knew the rest of her story – that the ship was attacked and she was separated from her family, landing on Socorro in an escape pod.

"How did you survive?" he asked gently. "After you'd reached the village, I mean".

She sniffed. "I was close to starving when I got to the village, and I had horrific heat stroke from the sun – it took me too long to realise how dangerous it is here in the day. An old man from the orphanage found me… took me to the doctor, gave me some food. I stayed at the orphanage for a few years, and then moved to the place I live now".

Marc wasn't sure whether it was right of him to have asked her about such a difficult part of her life, but when she looked at him and smiled he felt reassured.

He leant in towards her to kiss her, but all of a sudden they heard a deafening _screech_ coming from behind them.

Elle flinched, as though the sound caused her pain, and yelled "What is that?" at Marc.

Marc looked around. He had heard the noise before and he knew what it was, but he didn't answer. Instead, he took Elle's hand and led her over to the far side of the sand dune that they were on. There was a group of animals about 20 yards away from them. They were the source of the horrible noise.

"_My god!"_ Elle yelled. _"What are they doing?_"

The animals were tearing each other apart like they had lost their minds. The noise was their screams of pain. Elle covered her mouth as one of the animals ripped another's flesh from its body, resulting in yet another blood curdling screech.

Marc looked on gravely. He suspected that he knew the cause of the animals' craziness, but he looked around for the proof that he needed. It didn't take long for him to find it, even in the dark. Plants were poking through the sand… plants with bright red leaves. They were called _Caranth _leaves, and they were often destroyed by the villagers if they were found.

Marc put his hand on Elle's shoulder and turned her towards the plant. "This is what's causing it", he told her. "These plants are like a really strong drug, and if the animals eat it then they go crazy, like those ones have. They usually avoid them like we do… but there mustn't be any other food for them right now".

"So…" Elle started, "…what can we do? We can't leave them to tear each other apart, can we?"

Marc stood and looked back at the animals, who were still screeching. "There's nothing we can do right now", he said. Elle looked as though she were about to argue, but Marc continued before she could. "If we go any nearer to them they'll attack us. We're lucky that they haven't seen us yet, otherwise they'd go right for us. We need to tell the people in the village… if any of the larger animals start to each the Caranth leaves then they'll be a real danger. After that there'll be a choice to make".

"What choice?" Elle asked.

"The animals are only eating the Caranth because there isn't any other food available for them to eat. The only way to stop them from tearing each other apart is to stop them eating it… and the only way to do that is to destroy all of the Caranth that's growing around here".

"But if the Caranth is their only source of food then they'll starve and die out", Elle realised.

Marc nodded. "Exactly. They won't all die out, I don't think. Probably about half of them. So the choice we have to make is whether to allow them to carry on eating the Caranth and live, or to destroy the Caranth and let most of them die. Chances are that if we leave them alone then eventually they'll start attacking people, and believe me they can be very dangerous".

Elle became lost in thought for a while. She honestly couldn't decide what she would do in this situation; she hated to see any living creature suffering, but they would with either choice. Eventually she came to the conclusion that she would leave the Caranth leaves alone, and let the animals carry on eating it to stay alive. But was that just so that she wouldn't have to bear the responsibility of all those animals starving? She couldn't be sure.

Marc had no such doubts. If he had the equipment with him he would have destroyed the leaves then and there; he hated the idea of anything's mind being influenced by someone or something else. Anything, he thought, was better than not being in control of your own mind.

Marc took Elle's hand and they headed back towards the village.

They had barely got 20 yards before they heard a deafening _bang_ high above them. They both covered their ears and looked upwards. At first neither of them could see anything. Then they heard a long whirring sound, which grew louder and louder. Then another noise started; it sounded like weapons fire.

Two small ships suddenly burst through the clouds high above them. One of them was badly damaged, trailing thick black smoke behind it. The other circled around it, occasionally firing another round of blaster fire.

Marc stared upward, eyes wide, as the ships moved back and forth above them. To him it looked like a dance; one ship would lead and the other would follow, and every so often they would change roles.

Elle stared upwards as well, but she was frightened. The crash of the weapons hitting the ships hulls brought back unpleasant memories for her, and she had already started to wonder; why are they here? What do they want? She moved closer to Marc and squeezed herself against him, as though she believed that he would be able to protect her against anything.

As though to validate her fears, one round of weapons fire tore a segment of the hull of one of the ships – by far the most damaged – and send both the hull piece and the ship hurtling towards the ground. Marc and Elle stared upwards, watching the piece grow larger as it fell towards them.

"_Look out!"_ Marc screamed, and he pushed Elle to the side. The hull segment crashed to the ground barely 10 yards from where they were standing, sending clouds of black sand into the air, temporarily blinding Marc and Elle. They both knew that the damaged ship would also be falling to the ground, and they could hear the sound of its engine trying to stay on, to keep it in the air.

They both lay on the ground where they had fallen, trying to judge where the ship was by the sounds it was making. They could tell that it was getting closer, but couldn't be sure whether it would land close enough to them to do them harm.

Their fears were quickly answered, though, as they heard a loud crash some way off in the distance.

This threw more sand into the air, and Elle started to cough violently. Marc put his arm around her and led her out of the dust cloud. They both collapsed to the ground, coughing. Marc struggled with his pack, and brought out a flask which he had filled with water before they left. He handed it to Elle who quickly unscrewed the top and took a long swig from it before handing it back to Marc who did the same.

Still, it took some time for them to recover completely, and even more time before the cloud of sand dissipated. They sat still and waited, shocked into silence by what they had just seen. Neither of them had ever seen two ships in a dog fight like that, and they were still processing the experience.

Eventually, Marc looked in the direction that the ship had crashed. He could just make out a plume of smoke rising into the air. He struggled to get to his feet, and started to walk towards the crash. Elle grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "You have no idea what's over there. We need to go tell the sheriff in the village. We need to tell _Garin_ as well… he'll know what to do".

Marc looked at her. "I can handle it. We don't need Garin", he said, an edge creeping into his voice. Elle had never heard him sound like that before… as though he was angry that she didn't think he was capable of handling it himself. He forcefully took his hand out of hers and carried on towards the crash.

Elle watched him for a moment, and then she hurried after him.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The ship lay in pieces just beyond a large sand dune. When whole, the ship had wings protruding from either side, but the one on the right had broken, and now lay hanging from the side. The one from the left was missing completely – it must have torn off while the ship was falling. The majority of the ship was shrouded by fire. Marc and Elle stood atop it looking down. Pieces of scorched metal had been thrown in every direction, and small fires dotted the sand, sending an ominous glow into the air. They looked at each other briefly and then climbed down the sand dune.

"I don't see how anyone could have survived this", Elle said. She still believed that they should have gone back to the village.

Marc didn't respond to her. He moved closer to the wreckage, raising his hands to try and protect himself from the fires which were worse the closer he got to the largest piece of wreckage. He got as close as he could without being burned, and squinted through the smoke.

Suddenly, Marc rushed towards the wreckage, seemingly oblivious to the fire. Elle was shocked. "_What are you doing!?_" she screamed at him.

"_There's someone in there_" he yelled back, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around his face to try and shield himself from the heat. Elle stood there, motionless. Her heart was in her mouth. She strained to see Marc through the smoke, and watched his silhouette as it went further and further into the smoke. She lost sight of Marc, and could hear nothing but the crackling of the fire.

Minutes passed with no sign on Marc emerging. Elle became convinced that he had been caught in the fire and killed, and she began to cry uncontrollably. She sat on the floor, her knees tucked up to her chest, and she buried her head in her knees.

More time passed with no sign of movement. Suddenly, however, Elle thought she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. She stood up, hope suddenly filling her. She moved as close to the fire as she could, and called Marc's name. And her hope was rewarded. Marc emerged slowly from the smoke, dragging an unconscious body behind him.

When Marc had gotten clear of the flame, Elle rushed towards him, wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest. He was breathing heavily, and his face was burned slightly, but he wrapped his arm around her as well. She cried into his chest. "Don't ever do that again", she said through her tears.

Marc smiled and rested his head on top of hers. "Believe me", he said, "I won't".

They remained in each other's arms for several seconds before separating. Elle looked at the unconscious body which Marc had dragged away from the wreckage. It was a woman, older than them but not that old. She was wearing a dark flight suit with a helmet, the visor of which had smashed in the crash. She had blood running down her face and a nasty looking cut in her leg.

Elle knelt down beside her and took her helmet off. Her face was worn, as though she'd seen far too many battles, and her hair was short – Elle thought she looked a little like a man, but Marc thought she was attractice. The blood was coming from gash on the top of her head; it seemed as though the helmet had not helped her. Elle felt for a pulse and found that the woman was alive, but only barely.

She looked up at Marc. "She's alive", she said, "But she won't be for long without help. We need to get her to the doctor in the village". She started to turn the body so that it would be easier to lift.

"No", Marc said quietly. "We can't take her to the village. It would take too long to get her there; she'd die on the way". He moved to kneel on the other side of the woman to Elle, and helped her lift her up.

"So…" Elle started. "What are we going to do?"

Marc sighed. He knew what they needed to do, but he really didn't want to do it.

"We need to take her to my parents", he said finally.

* * *

Garin threw the door-flaps of his and his men's tent open and strode in. He didn't look any of them in the eye, and he went straight to the back of the tent where he sat down, his back to everyone. He sat completely still and silent for a long time, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. The people around him were like a blur; nothing more than background noise. More than once one of them approached him but none of it registered with him.

He had _murdered _someone. That realisation had hit him like nothing he'd ever felt before. He'd killed someone in cold blood and his mind couldn't cope with it. Of course, he'd killed people before; he is a soldier after all. But on a battlefield he could always justify it, always blame his _orders_ for the deaths. This was so much different. He couldn't get the image of the man's face, frozen in surprise as he fell to the ground, out of his mind. And that wasn't the part that bothered him the most.

After he had realised that Graves was dead he calmly lifted the body and put it in the vehicle – the same vehicle that Garin had been so desperate to acquire from him – and he drove out into the desert. He dumped the body out there; it was likely that no one would ever find it, or even realise that he had been killed.

He stared down at his hands. One of them was still stained with blood from Graves's face. His heart was pounding, and he was covered in a cold sweat. He couldn't cope with what he'd done. He felt like he was going to explode.

A deafening explosion rocked the tent, and for a moment Garin thought that he had.

For the first time since he had entered the tent he noticed the people around him. They were shouting, and moving as one toward the tent door. The explosion, he realised, had come from outside; and it was close. He wiped the tears from around his eyes and followed his men out of the tent.

The scene that greeted them was horrifying. The village was in flames; they were stood around thirty yards away but could still feel the burning heat from the fires, which reached tens of feet into the night sky. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't their home that was aflame. As they were stood watching in shock, they saw part of the large fence that surrounded the village collapse – the crash that it made as it hit the ground was deafening even from where they were standing.

They heard screams – dozens of them, as though the whole village was screaming at once. Those horrifying sounds were enough to shake them out of the daze that they were in.

They heard the shrill whine of a ship engine whirring above, but none of them could see it through the smoke. Suddenly, the air was lit up by weapons fire which illuminated the ship for an instant. It wasn't long, but it was long enough for Garin to recognise that they were being attacked by an Alliance fighter.

Garin called for his men to return to the tent to get their weapons, but his mind was racing. Were the Alliance here for them? If so, how could they have found out where they were? Did they bring this down on the people of the village? The thought that more deaths were on his hands filled him with rage. He grabbed a blaster rifle from one of the others and started to fire wildly into the air. It was a futile gesture; none of them could get a clear sight of the fighter through the smoke. His men followed suit regardless. Perhaps one of them would get lucky.

None of them did. The fighter passed in and out of view far too quickly for them to get a clear shot off, and the ships blaster fire was devastating the village. It was only a matter of time before the ship turned its attention to the men firing at it.

Garin headed into the village. He was greeted with a scene which he had seen far too often; buildings were broken and burning, people were screaming, dead bodies lined the roads. Garin stared in astonishment as a man rushed past him screaming, fire scolding his back.

He heard a loud whistling sound, getting louder and louder. Suddenly, the ground to the side of him exploded as a round from the ships weapons hit it. Garin was flung high into the air, and when he landed he lay still and lifeless.

* * *

Marc brought his hand down hard on the old wooden door; once, twice, three times. The loud _bang_ that they made echoed out around his parents' ranch.

He did not want to be there. He still had a mark on his face from the last visit he made to his parents; his mother's stinging strike had broken his heart, and he had promised himself then that he would not return. But the village was too far to drag the injured woman. His father was an army medic, and his mother a nurse; they met each other in a military hospital, after his father had been injured in a battle. He was sure that they would be able to help the woman.

The door did not open. A voice in Marc's head – a twisted, unfamiliar voice - started to whisper that his parents were not there. That he would have an excuse not to see them again. And Marc found himself happy about the prospect, even though it meant that the injured woman would most likely die.

He looked sideways at Elle. He saw her frightened but determined face, and he knew that she would be shattered if the woman died despite her trying her hardest to help her. He felt ashamed.

He brought his hand up again and slammed it down on the door. He did it again. And again. And again.

Eventually he heard a familiar voice call through the door. "What the hell are you doing?" it said. The door swung open and Marc stood face to face with his father. The man who had made his life a living hell, who had left him out in the sun to die without a second thought. The man who had bullied and intimidated his mother so much that she would turn her back on her own son. And he was here to ask for this man's help.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He simply could not bring himself to speak to his father; the man made him sick. All he felt for him was anger, and hatred, and he had to fight the urge to rip the man to pieces. His hands and his teeth clenched, but he lowered his gaze to the ground and stood still.

His father, meanwhile, merely looked at his son. A detestable smile appeared on his face; to Elle it looked as though he was enjoying seeing Marc so uncomfortable. From the stories that Marc had told her, she had already developed a strong dislike for the man, but that smile made her sick to her stomach.

Elle was the one who spoke first, her soft voice cutting through the tension.

"Please", she said. "This lady needs help".

For the first time Marc's father looked at the injured woman hung limp between Marc and Elle. He snorted and turned to go back in the house, but Elle darted forward and grabbed his shoulder to stop him. "_Please", _she begged_. _"She'll die if you don't help her_"._

He stared at her for a while, before grunting and motioning for them to come inside. They followed him in, dragging the still unconscious woman with them.

The inside was exactly the same as it had been the last time Marc was there. Had it only been two weeks? To Marc it seemed much longer. They were engulfed in the dirty smell of the animals; a smell that Marc had never noticed before. He guessed that he had gotten used to it when he lived here, but now the smell made him gag. Had he carried this smell around with him when he went to the village?

He looked around at the living room, at the dull brown of the walls and the furniture. It was a horrible place. No colour. No _life_. A disgusting place for a disgusting man.

He noticed that his father had stopped, and now stood at the centre of the room with his arms folded across his chest, staring at Marc. He still had that horrible smile on his lips.

"I want and apology", he said.

Neither of them knew how to react. They stood in shocked silence for a few moments, before Elle finally managed to spit out one word. "_What?"_ she said.

"An apology", Marc's father repeated. "And a promise that you'll repay me all of the money I _wasted_ raising you when I should have just thrown you out with the garbage".

Marc stood in silence. His fists were clenched so tight that his nails were digging in and piercing the skin of his palm, and drops of blood began to drip to the floor. He knew h didn't have a choice; his father would be prepared to let the woman die if he didn't get his way. But he just could bring himself the say the words.

Elle slipped her hand around his clenched fist, and Marc felt the strength he needed flow into him.

"I'm… _sorry_", he spat. "You'll get your money back".

His father's smile widened even further, and Marc promised himself that, when this was over, he would rip that smile from his father's face.

"I'll hold you to that", his father said. "Lay her down on the table". Marc and Elle carefully manoeuvred the woman onto the dinner table. She was deathly silent – when they had first dragged her away from the crash she occasionally made quiet moaning sounds, but now there was nothing.

His father had walked over to an old, decaying cupboard in the corner of the room, and from it he pulled out a black bag. It was his medical bag; Marc had seen it once before, when his older brother had badly injured his leg and his father treated it. He remembered being surprised at how much love his father put into trying to heal his brother. Surprised and envious; it was love that had never been given to him.

His father went to work quickly and efficiently, first cleaning the wound and then sealing it. Thankfully, the burning heat of the ship's hull as it pierced her side cauterised the wound, so blood loss was not a problem. However, there was a worry that some of her major organs had suffered trauma, and Marc's father spent a great deal of time examining her to check for internal damage.

Marc and Elle stood in the corner looking on sombrely. Elle's hand was still closed over Marc's which had uncurled from a fist and now hung loosely by his side. Marc moved closer to her and rested his head on the top of hers; all they could do now was watch and wait.

They heard a click to their side, and saw a door creep slowly open. A shadow moved behind it; the shadow of a head peeking around the door.

"Jack?" a voice said quietly. Marc's heart jumped into his throat; it was his mother. "Jack… what's going on?"

"Shut up, woman" Marc's father yelled. Despite the way his mother acted toward him the last time they met, Marc still found himself getting angry at the way his father treated her. But, he realised, he wanted nothing more than for his mother to do as his father told her and go back into her room before she noticed he was there.

She didn't. Instead, she slowly crept further and further out of her bedroom; she had seen the woman on the table, and her curiosity would not let her leave without finding out more. She noticed Marc and Elle almost immediately. She lost all interest in the injured woman and looked at Marc, deep into his eyes. He could see the regret in her own eyes, but he was too angry with her to even contemplate forgiving her.

They stared at each other for a long time. Elle did not speak either; she just glanced back and forth between them, uncomfortable with the silence. The only sound was that of Marc's father continuing to work on the woman.

After what seemed like a lifetime, his mother spoke. "Marc…" she said, her voice barely audible. Marc didn't respond; he simply continued to stare. His mother swallowed, clearly as nervous as her son. "How have you been?" she asked.

Something about the way she spoke angered Elle. She moved forward so she was between Marc and his mother, an angry look on her face. "_How have you been_?" she repeated loudly. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Her voice was growing louder and louder. "You make me sick. You stand by and watch your husband try to kill your son, and call him a liar when he tries to tell people about it, and all you can say for yourself is '_How have you been_?'" Marc put his hand on his shoulder, trying to get her to back off, but she didn't. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You don't have the right to talk to him", she yelled.

Marc could tell that this was going to escalate soon. His father would only let this continue for so long, and Marc needed him to focus on the woman on the table. He grabbed Elle's arm and dragged her out of the house.

He slammed the door behind them, and they stood for a while, breathing heavily. Elle didn't look at Marc, instead turning her head away from him. She wasn't ashamed of what she had said; in fact, she thought that Marc should have said it himself. It was more like she was… _embarrassed_. She hardly ever lost her temper with anyone. It was one of the few things about herself that she was proud of. Yet she had gotten so _angry_ in there. Angry about something which wasn't really her business. And she was scared that Marc would look at her differently now that he had seen that side of her.

"What was that about?" Marc asked, his voice gentle.

"I just…" Elle started, then hesitated as though she didn't know the right words. "She should be apologising to you. And you should be _screaming _at her. How can you just stand there and stay quiet while they act like you're the one in the wrong?"

Marc moved forward and took her hands in his. "I know, I know", he said. "I _am_ angry. I just… she's still my mother, you know? I don't know how to say how I feel because I'm honestly not sure how I feel". He looked into Elle's eyes and then kissed her on the lips. "Plus", he said after their lips had parted. "Now isn't really the best time to start an argument with them. We need my father to help that woman. I have a lot of questions for her".

Elle smile faintly. "You're right", she said. "Should we go back inside?"

"No", Marc said. "Let's take a walk. Let the air cool".

Their hands were still entwined, and Marc led Elle around the side of the house. Behind the house, in the direction of the village, there was a small hill which they headed up. They talked about what they would do in Hathrass, and whether they would ever return.

"I don't think I ever want to come back", Elle said. She had lost herself in fantasising about all the wonderful things she would do when she was free of this place. "We should get jobs there. Maybe work in a bar; I know we're young, but I bet we can find something. You, me and Sar could get a place together. What do you think?" She looked at Marc. He had stopped walking, and she had done the same. She hadn't noticed the look on his face until now. He was staring off into the distance, towards the top of the hill they were climbing.

She followed his gaze. Smoke was rising over the top of the hill; lots of smoke. They both knew that it was coming from the direction of the village. They ran, panic suddenly filling them. They reached the hilltop and gasped. The sight that greeted them was horrific; the village was in flames, buildings lay crumbled. Even from this far away they could see bodies lining what was left of the streets.

They carried on running.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

There was a fence around the outside of the village. Or rather, there used to be. Now it was just rubble. Marc and Elle had to clamber over it to get in. Flames were still burning all around them – they could hear the loud crackling - and they lit the place up as bright as it was in the celebrations a few days ago.

"Marc…" Elle said. He looked at her. Tears were streaming down her face, and she pointed him towards the side of the road. A body lay there; from where they were, about 10 yards away, they could see that it was badly burned. One of the legs was bent up behind his… her… back, and all of his hair had been burned away. Marc approached it slowly, trying to see if he could recognise the body. As he got closer the smell of burnt meat filled his nostrils and he vomited.

Elle stood in silence and watched him. He looked at the body for a moment, and then turned around and walked back to her. He took a moment to compose himself, and then he looked at Elle, who was still crying. "I can't…" he started. "I can't tell who it is".

They made their way slowly between the buildings, often having to backtrack because their way was blocked by rubble or fire. They saw dozens of bodies lining the streets – often there was more than one person in one place, as though they had huddled together to try to comfort each other. The children were the most painful to see. They'd often be laid next to the bodies of their mothers or fathers. Elle had buried her head in Marc's chest so that she didn't need to look at them.

They did see some people alive, but not many. They'd either be injured or hysterical, or both. People crying over the bodies of their friends, or the remains of everything they'd worked their lives to gather. They hadn't really thought about where they were headed, but they soon found themselves outside what was left of Elle's home. The roof had collapsed, along with one of the walls.

They sat down outside the wall and just looked at it for a long time. Elle sat with her head resting on Marc's shoulder. They were both in shock; the devastation around them brought back horrific memories for both of them, and they'd both believed that they would never see these scenes again.

They heard the sound of the survivors crying out, but they were both numb with shock and the voices seemed as though they were miles and miles away. The thoughts running through Marc's head were drowning out all other sounds. What could have happened here? Why would anyone do this? His thoughts began to turn to Sar; he needed to find him. He knew that he probably couldn't have survived, but he wouldn't accept that he was dead until he saw the body.

Though they were both numb, one word began to cut through to them. A sound, repeating every few seconds. What was that sound? Marc knew that he recognised it.

"Marc…"

It was his name. Someone was calling his name. He shook himself out of the daze that he was in and looked around. He couldn't see anyone else, so he stood up and listened for the sound again.

"Marc…"

It was coming from beneath a pile of rubble nearby. The voice was faint but familiar. Marc moved over to the rubble and started to dig through it. Elle watched him for a moment; she had not heard the voice, and so did not know what Marc was digging for. After a few minutes of him digging she slowly got to her feet, still in a daze, and wandered over to him. She didn't help him dig; she simply stood behind him and watched.

Rocks tumbled to the ground and dust was thrown into the air as Marc dug. Eventually a hand poked through the rubble. Elle saw it, and this brought her to life. She knelt beside Marc and helped him lift off the last remaining rocks.

It was Garin. He was alive.

"Help me move him". Marc and Elle dragged Garin down from the rubble he had fallen onto as gently as they could and lay him flat on the ground. His leg was badly mangled and he had a wound in his stomach, but he was breathing. At least that was something.

Marc looked up at the sky. Dawn was coming, the last thing any of them needed. With most of the buildings destroyed there would be no cover from the sun when it rose, and the few survivors that there were would die. He turned to Elle. "Elle, keep him safe", he said.

"What?" Elle said, panicking at the thought that Marc would leave her alone. "Where are you going?"

Marc pointed her towards the sky; the sun had begun to peek over the horizon. "The sun is coming up", he told her. "We need to get everyone under cover, but first we need to find some".

Garin stirred at that. At first all he could do was murmur, blood dripping from his mouth. But the sounds started to form words. "Tent…" he spat. "…south of the village".

"You heard the man", Marc said. "I'm going to gather as many people as I can and get them to head to the tent. Then I'll come back and we can get Garin to the tent together".

Marc left before Elle could answer. He guessed that they had about half an hour before the sunrise caught them, and he had somewhere he wanted to go.

He headed toward Sar's home.

To his amazement it was still standing, completely untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the rest of the village. Its plain and simple wooden walls and the calmness that emanated from it stood out in contrast to the chaos that had invaded the rest of the village – the house looked peaceful, and to Marc – who was still struggling to digest the reality of what was happening around him – it seemed as though this house was the only real thing, and the rest was just a nightmare. He didn't believe his eyes, and he reached out his hand and touched the house to make sure that it was real. He pushed open the door and walked inside. It was exactly as it had been the last time he was here.

"Sar", he called out. There was no answer, from either Sar or his mother. He did, however, notice an unfamiliar set of footprints on the ground; they were clearly a man's shoes, but were too big for Sar, who was much shorter than Marc. He decided to be more cautious; whoever came in here could still be here, and there was no guarantee that they would be friendly. He headed toward Sar's bedroom, slowly.

The instant he saw the door to his friend's room, his heart jumped into his throat. It was closed tight, and it was covered in blood. He approached it very slowly, trying to mentally prepare himself for what he would find; would it be Sar or his mother? Or both?

* * *

_Everything was on fire. People were screaming, begging for their lives. They ran past him, their accusing looks cutting through to his soul. They were dying. There were all going to die. And it was his fault._

Garin awoke with a start, and as he did so pain shot through his body from head to toe. It took several seconds for his eyes to focus, and several more for him to process what he was seeing. A familiar face looked down at him; it was the young girl from the village, Elle.

He was so tired, but his stomach felt like it was on fire. He could see that Elle was talking to him, but his ears were just ringing and he couldn't hear a word she said. He tried to move his arms to his stomach to find out why he was in so much pain, but he couldn't find the strength to move.

Suddenly something was shoved into his face. He thought that someone was attacking him at first, but then he felt cool, refreshing water pouring into his mouth and he stopped struggling against it. When Elle moved the pitcher of water away from his mouth, he simply lay there panting.

"What…" he tried to say. "What… happening?"

Elle looked at him, a sad look on her face. "The village was attacked", she said, her voice wavering. "Everything… everything's gone".

The memories suddenly came flooding back to Garin; the ship, the shooting and the explosion that had sent him rocketing into the air. He closed his eyes, seeing the images in his head over and over; people were dying all around him, and the screams still hurt his ears.

"What happened here?" Elle asked, her voice suddenly strong and determined. "How did all of this happen?"

Garin indicated to her that he needed more water; his throat was so dry. She leant over and helped him to drink some, and then patiently waited from him to answer her question.

"There was…" he said. "There was a ship. An Alliance ship, I'm sure of it. We were in our tent and we heard explosions. We all went outside, my men and me, and we saw it flying above the village. It was just… attacking everything. We tried to fight it but we couldn't even hit it once. Everyone…" he stopped, remembering something painful. "Everyone was screaming so loud. And I couldn't do anything for them".

Elle leaned forward and rested her hand on his arm, trying to comfort him. In truth, her mind was racing. As soon as Garin had mentioned a ship she had thought of the two that she and Marc had seen earlier, and of the injured woman who they had left with Marc's parents. It couldn't be a coincidence; the second ship, the one that didn't crash, must have been the one responsible for the destruction that surrounded them.

She knew that there was nothing that she could do to find out more now. The strain of talking was clearly too much for Garin, who had passed out again almost as soon as he'd finished talking. She resolved to head straight back to Marc's family ranch. She looked at the sky, which was beginning to glow red as the sun rose. The temperature was rising quickly; they had perhaps twenty minutes before it became dangerous to be outside.

* * *

Marc crept toward the blood covered door. His heart was pounding at the thought of what he might find in that room. The blood was still wet; he could hear the steady drip… drip… drip of drops splashing to the floor. He wrapped his hand in his sleeve and tentatively reached his hand out to push open the door. It opened a few inches but then stopped, jammed on something on the other side.

He heard a moan from beyond the door; a woman's voice. Sar's mother, Marc assumed. He moved close to the door and tried to see through the opening. He could just see a leg; blood covered it, and it was completely still. He called to her through the door, but she didn't answer.

He needed to get through the door, but couldn't do it without barging her out of the way. Unless, he suddenly thought, he went around the outside of the house and came in through the window. He hurried outside and around to the back of the house. All windows on Socorro were covered over to protect from the sun when it rose, but in the village this was done using very weak cloth. He was sure he would be able to rip his way through it.

The reddening sky did not escape his attention; he didn't have much time.

He found a small piece of rubble from the surrounding destruction and smashed the window as cautiously as he could. He swept away the glass from the surrounding frame and pulled himself through the opening.

Sar's mother lay next to the door, completely still. The lights in the room were off, but the dim glow coming in through the window illuminated the horrific sight; she had been… mutilated. Her left arm was gone completely, and her head and face were covered in blood which flowed from a large wound in her skull. Marc's stomach felt queasy again. Even in the midst of all the surrounding destruction, the sight of his friend's mother lying mutilated in front of him seemed too much.

He approached her slowly, and reached out a hand towards her. When he was less than a yard away, she suddenly started moving; a sickening gurgling sound came out of her mouth, along with more blood.

Marc hurried to kneel beside her, and tried to get her to lie still. Her eyes were open, but she didn't look at anything; her eyeballs were rolled up into her head. He knew that she was gone. Her heart might still be beating but her mind had gone.

He was trying not to look at her injuries, but he noticed that they were strange. The wound to her arm was cauterised, as though whatever had caused it was piping hot, but the wounds to the other parts of her body – like the gash in her skull – were not. They looked like they'd been done with something hard and sharp, but cold, as though the attacker incapacitated her and then continued to hurt her even after she couldn't fight back.

"It looks like torture". The voice – a woman's – came from behind him. Marc jumped at the sudden sound and jerked around. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest object and held it like a weapon. There was someone stood outside of Sar's window; he couldn't tell who it was at first, just a silhouette, but he knew that he didn't recognise the voice. He cautiously moved closer.

"Who are you?" he called. "Did you do this?" As he crept closer, the light of the moon passed over the woman's face and Marc recognised her. It was the woman from the crashed ship. The woman that he had left with his parents. For one insane moment he was convinced that she had been responsible for all of the destruction around him. But that passed quickly; she had been unconscious the whole time.

"No", she replied, her voice soft and gentle. "But I know who did".

Marc let the object in his hand drop to the floor. "Tell me", he said. "Tell me now".

The woman rested her elbows on the window frame and leant forward, but she made no move to enter the house. "You should take care of her before we talk", she said. She was talking about Sar's mother, who still lay gurgling by the door.

Marc looked back at her; the sight still made him sick. "What do you mean 'take care'?" he asked.

The woman looked at him, a sympathetic but impatient look on her face. She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "Her mind is gone", she said after a while. "Even if she survives she'll never really live again. She'll spend the rest of her life in pain, in agony".

Realisation dawned on Marc then. He looked at Sar's mother, realising what the woman was suggesting he do. His mind raced, trying to think of some justification for not doing it, but he knew that there was none. He'd done it before on the mountain, after all.

He walked slowly to the writhing figure on the floor and knelt beside her. He rested his hand gently on her forehead, and, almost too quiet to hear, whispered one word; "Sorry". Then he moved around, reached out his hands and clasped them around her neck. He squeezed tightly until the woman fell silent and stopped moving, and then he held on for another minute. Tears streamed down his face, the full horror of what he was doing dawning on him. He knew it was for the best; she would have died slowly and painfully if Marc had left her. He tried to tell himself that he was doing her a favour, but it didn't make him feel any better about it.

Eventually he released his grip. The woman, who had been patiently waiting in silence outside of the window, softly told him that it was time to go. In a daze, Marc clambered out through the broken window and stood face-to-face with the woman for the first time.

Marc walked with her, barely registering what was happening around him. Afterward, he remembered hearing her call out to the other survivors, ushering them into Sar's house – the only shelter within reach before the sun rose over the horizon. He staggered along, barely keeping on his feet, while the woman followed behind.

Suddenly Marc's stomach turned. A horrible queasiness spread through his insides, and his stomach cramped up. He fell to the floor. He felt as though his insides were going to burst.

"Let it out", a voice said to him. It felt as though it came from miles away, even though he knew that the woman who said it was stood right next to him. "You'll feel better if you do".

He couldn't fight it anymore. A tingling sensation filled the back of his throat and he felt the vomit rise from his stomach. He threw up.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Elle was a mess. When Marc had left her on her own she almost had a panic attack, she didn't know what to do. She could see the sun peeking over the horizon, and was starting to feel its warmth on her skin. When he didn't come back she feared the worst; what if he'd been hurt? What if he was lying in a pool of his own blood somewhere, crying out for her to come help him? She couldn't handle the doubt that had invaded her mind.

She had decided to try and fight it by doing something productive. She had found a large piece of cloth which had ripped free of the village covering from the previous night's festival, and had rolled Garin's motionless body onto it. She was determined that she was going to get both him and her to the shelter of the tent outside the village, even if she had to drag him all the way herself.

She managed to get a couple of hundred yards before she realised that she wouldn't make it in time. She collapsed to the ground next to Garin, who hadn't so much as stirred since Marc left. How could he leave her like that? She was angry, but she was also about to give up.

"Elle", a soft voice came from behind her. She recognised it as Marc's immediately, and she swung around ready to scream at him for leaving her. But something in his eyes made her stop. It was like he wasn't really there; she could sense that he'd seen something that had shattered him completely. She walked over to him, meaning to wrap her arms around him to comfort him, but an unfamiliar woman appeared behind him.

The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then to Marc. When it became clear that Marc would not introduce them they did it themselves.

"Um…" Elle started. "Hi".

"Hey", the woman responded with a nod.

There was more awkward silence. After several moments, Marc walked over to where Garin lay, grabbed the end of the piece of material and started to drag him along. The woman moved over to help him do so, and Elle followed quietly behind.

* * *

It took them about 15 minutes to arrive at the tent; by then the sun was far above the horizon, and the sizzling heat was already tearing away at their skin. Elle had wrapped her coat around her head to try and protect herself, but Marc and the stranger carried on as though they were oblivious to the heat.

Survivors had seemingly flocked to the tent as one of the only sources of shelter remaining, and as a result it had become quite crowded. There was barely enough room for the four of them.

The atmosphere inside the tent was one of complete shock. People were struggling to come to terms with what had happened to them, and what they had lost. People were crying, and the sounds of the injured moaning in pain provided a painful background.

They had dragged Garin into one of the corners, and now sat in silence. Marc sat with his head buried in his knees, and Elle sat looking at him, trying to work up the courage to ask him what had happened. When she finally did, it wasn't Marc who answered.

"He didn't find his friend", the woman said. "What he did find you don't want to know about".

Elle was now even more worried. "He didn't find Sar?" she asked. She swallowed. "Not even… a body?"

"No", the woman replied. "If I'm right then I don't think he'd dead".

Marc stirred at this. "What do you mean?" he mumbled.

The woman sighed, as though she didn't want to tell the story. "OK", she said eventually. "I'm a Jedi. A few days ago I sensed a massive disturbance in the force. Something that could only have been generated by one thing". She paused then, and Marc and Elle wondered if she had decided to stop talking. After several moments, however, she continued. "There's a legend, from thousands and thousands of years ago – from as far back as our recorded history goes – of an artefact which was created directly from the force. Like… the force had been compressed so much that it became _solid_. The story goes that there were countless wars between species that don't even exist anymore over who controlled this artefact; whoever did would be able to manipulate the force like no one before or since.

"But it caused too much damage. Eventually, they realised that it would end up destroying everything, and they broke it into two pieces and hid them on separate worlds… secret worlds.

"I think that someone found one of the pieces on _this_ planet, and – even more extraordinary – the piece reacted with someone, which caused the disturbance that I felt – that, I assume, every force sensitive in the Galaxy felt".

Marc and Elle had both realised what she was talking about. The piece that they had stumbled across the other night… could it really have been so significant? And the reaction… it wasn't Sar who had caused it, it was Marc.

She continued. "I came here looking for the piece. And for the person who had caused the reaction. The other piece, you see, was found centuries ago on a planet on the outer rim. But it's locked in a heavily booby-trapped room, and if someone were to try and remove it by force it would be destroyed. The only way to get to it is to get the other piece – that was found here – and cause it to react, opening the door to the second piece.

"I was hoping that I could get there first… before anyone else". She swallowed and looked downwards. When she looked back at Marc and Elle her face was deadly serious. "It's dangerous. Too dangerous. We need to destroy it. But I was too slow. Another arrived at the same time as me. A Dark Jedi. He opened fire on me just outside this planet's atmosphere, and I crashed to the ground near here.

"He found the fragment in this village. Your friend – Sar, did you say his name was? – must have had it hidden in his home. The Dark Jedi destroyed the village and took the fragment and your friend".

Marc and Elle looked at each other. Neither of them could decide whether or not to tell this woman that it was Marc who had caused the reaction. They both chose to stay silent.

There was a cough and a splutter, and Garin moaned loudly. His eyes opened slowly; he was clearly still in a lot of pain. They widened in recognition when he saw the woman, though.

"Y… you", he said. "You were dead".

The woman smiled down at him. "No", she said softly. "I wasn't".

"You…" Elle started. "You know each other?"

The woman looked at Elle and nodded. "We're both with the Rebels. I am a member of the Grey Order. A couple of weeks ago we were on a mission. A mission that went bad real quick. We barely got away with our lives".

Garin stirred. "I never saw you escape", he said. His voice was dry, and the others could barely hear him, but they could sense the suspicion in his voice. "You vanished on the _Endor_, and the next thing we knew we were ambushed".

"We were ambushed as well", the woman said quickly. "On the bridge. And not just by Alliance troops. There were _Jedi_ there".

Marc had begun to show interest in the conversation. He had grown up reading stories about the Jedi, and had always dreamed of going on an adventure with them. "You mean…" he said, "You mean other Jedi? Other than you?"

The woman nodded, and then carried on. "They were busy gloating, and then the battle outside started. It provided a distraction for us to run. We fought our way to the hangar bay". She looked sad, suddenly, as though remembering something painful. "Gabe…" tears started to roll down her eyes. "He stayed behind. To give me time to escape. The last thing I saw was the other Jedi cutting him down". Her voice trailed off then; she had finished her story.

Garin looked at her. He didn't say anything, but he was trying to size her up. He had never trusted her, or her blue skinned friend, but her tears seemed genuine. _Something_ had happened to her. Something painful. He had no doubts about that. But her story was a strange one; what had she been doing for the past two weeks? She couldn't have spent the whole time floating about in a fighter. They didn't carry enough air for more than a couple of days.

He knew that he would need to keep an eye on her. He felt a twinge in his side, and he remembered the state that he was in. His suspicions would have to wait, at least until he had recovered his strength.

"The vehicle I acquired", he said. "It's outside. There's easily enough room for the four of us. I still need to get off this planet, and report to the Rebel Council. And, from what you've told me, you need to get off world soon too". Marc, Elle and the stranger looked at each other. They knew that they would have to hurry if they were to follow the Dark Jedi and retrieve Sar. Garin continued. "We need to get to Hathrass. We'll leave tomorrow".

They agreed. There was a moment of silence, before Elle said, almost embarrassed, "Um… what's your name?"

The woman looked at her, and smiled faintly. "Jani", she said. "Pleased to meet you".

They said their hello's, and then they split up to sleep through the day. Though Garin had tried to act as though his strength was returning, in truth he could feel a fever coming on, and was worried that the wound in his side was becoming infected. Jani sat next to him, propped up against the side of the tent, and she slept with her hand on her light-sabre. Marc and Elle lay down together. Elle fell asleep quickly, but Marc didn't sleep at all that day.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Everyone got everything they need?"

It was the following night, and the four companions had moved outside to the vehicle that Garin had acquired. It was a large brown truck, with treads running down either side. It ran along the ground, and it would not travel at high speeds, but it looked in good shape.

Marc and Jani had carried Garin outside. His condition had worsened through the day, and he was floating in and out of consciousness. They had managed to cobble together some makeshift bandages from clothes they had found scattered throughout the tent, and now they were trying to gently move him into the back of the truck. When they were satisfied that he was comfortable, Jani closed the back door of the truck and looked at Marc.

Marc looked around. "I think that's everything", he said.

Elle had spent the time since she woke almost in silence. The events of the previous night were still very vivid in her memory. She had hoped that they would fade, like a dream, but every time she closed her eyes she remembered what she had seen; the walking wounded, in a daze, sometimes crying out for someone to help. It was a struggle for her to keep herself together.

The sight that greeted them that night was little improvement. The majority of the fires had gone out, save for a few small ones still burning, but the smoke was still thick. Through it they could only see shadows of the broken village, of collapsed buildings and dead bodies. She hated that she was leaving the people here. How would they survive?

Marc put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped in surprise, and then they both smiled grimly at her reaction. Elle could sense that something had happened to Marc last night, and that it had affected him greatly, but she didn't want to push him to tell her. She was willing to wait for him.

Marc walked past her, towards the crowd of still dazed survivors. "Listen", he called out. He spent several moments trying to get everyone's attention, and when he was satisfied that most were listening he continued. "Everyone, head to the ranch to the north. There's food there, and a barn that will give everyone shelter".

He wanted to do more to help them, but knew that he had nothing more to offer. He silently worried that his father would turn them away. Even he couldn't be that cold, could he?

He turned, and climbed into the truck next to Jani. Elle quietly climbed into the back with Garin.

* * *

Marc figured that the journey would take at least four hours. Before they set off he had been quietly worried that he didn't know the way; the others were depending on it, but if it came to it he would not be able to confidently give them accurate directions. So he was relieved when they found a path in the sand, made by other trucks and carts passing through, which seemed to head in the direction they were going.

The rumble of the engine was constant. Marc found it reassuring; when it was steady he knew that they were making progress, and even when it wasn't he knew that if it was still running then they were fine. He was sat in the front passenger seat, his head resting against the headrest. Jani was driving. Marc was excited; at first he had struggled to push the events of the previous day to the back of his mind, but now that he was sitting next to a real life Jedi he could think of nothing else.

He kept glancing across at her, trying to do it without her noticing. Her blonde hair was short – it was cut at the back, but she let her fringe grow long and hang down over her eyes. Every so often she would absent-mindedly brush it away. Her arms were thick – she clearly spent a lot of time working out, but he still thought she looked attractive. He guessed that she was in her thirties, but her face was battle worn which could have made her look older than she was.

She suddenly glanced sideways at him and caught him looking at her. He looked away, embarrassed. She smiled but didn't say anything.

Marc suddenly felt uncomfortable. He manoeuvred himself around and climbed into the back of the truck where Elle was watching over Garin.

He stumbled over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "How is he? Any better?" he asked.

Elle looked up at him, her eyes sad, and shook her head. "He…" she started, and then swallowed. "He wakes up from time to time. He mumbles things… things that don't make any sense. I guess he's delirious". She moved her hand and gently lifted the blanket she had put over Garin away, exposing the wound in his side. Though they had managed to bandage the wound it was clear that it was still open and leaking blood. "I can't stop it bleeding", she said. "He'll die soon".

Marc thought for a moment. The idea of Garin dying didn't worry him. He had seen so much death recently; was he becoming numb to it? He hoped he wasn't. He pulled Elle closer to him and tried to drown out everything except for her. Her scent enveloped him, and he closed his eyes and welcomed it. She looked up into his eyes and kissed him deeply, and when they separated he saw that there were tears in her eyes. She buried her head in his chest and was still and silent for a long time. Eventually she fell asleep.

Marc moved her away as gently as he could so as not to wake her. He scrunched up his jacket into a makeshift pillow and lay her down on it, trying to make her as comfortable as he could. When he was satisfied he moved back to the front passenger seat, hoping that the lingering thoughts of Elle would stop him from constantly needing to stare at the beautiful woman in the driver's seat. It didn't.

He decided that conversation would be the best distraction, and he – rather nervously, although he didn't hear the quiver in his voice – asked her to 'tell him about herself'. She grunted with laughter at this, as though the idea that someone wanted to genuinely know about _her_ was ludicrous.

"What you really want to know", she said, "is about the Jedi, right kid?" Marc stayed silent. It was true that he was curious about what life as a Jedi was like, but his real motive for asking was simply to occupy his mind. "Well", she continued, "it's nowhere near as interesting as you might think. Sure, in the past the Jedi were like knights; they'd ride in at the first sign of trouble and save the day". She laughed bitterly. "Nowadays all they do is find excuses not to".

Marc looked at her. There was so much bitterness in her voice, and in her eyes. "Is that why you became a Grey Jedi?" he asked gently.

She looked at him; stared deep into his eyes, trying to size him up. After a while she looked back at the road ahead, which made Marc feel much more comfortable. "I suppose so", she said with a sigh. "I got fed up of having to follow rules that I don't agree with. When the first few broke off I hesitated, but with a little encouragement from a friend I ended up leaving too".

"A friend?" Marc said, "Is this the friend who you mentioned earlier? The one who… died?"

She nodded, sadness now filling her face. Even though he was young, even Marc could sense that the two had been more than just friends. Jani, however, quickly changed the subject. "How's your history, kid?" she asked.

"Um…" Marc began to answer, but she quickly interrupted him.

"The Grey Order wasn't something that came around all of a sudden", she said. "The foundations for it were laid out over 70 years ago".

"You mean… the last time the _Empire_ was in power?" Marc had learned about it in school – of the Empire's dominance over the Galaxy two centuries ago, of the Battle of Endor, and of the repeated attempts of the Empire's Remnants to reclaim the Galaxy. They had succeeded only once; seventy years ago the Empire, under a promise of peace, had wrested control from the Alliance through democratic means rather than militant. They were initially benign, but that didn't last – the Sith took over and yet another war ensued, at the end of which the Alliance was once again in power.

Jani nodded. "Well… at first they were good guys, you know? They were a genuine political party, dedicated to representing the people. But the leaders of this new benign Empire were betrayed, and power fell to people who were either corrupt or completely without morals. The _Sith"_.

Marc had heard legends of the Sith. They were a group in direct opposition to the Jedi way of life. Marc enjoyed the stories, even though they always seemed to deal in _absolutes_ – light and dark, good and evil. That never sat right with him.

Jani continued. "The benign version of this new Empire had a small but significant army of force users; force users who didn't serve either the Jedi or the Sith. They called themselves The Knights of the Empire – or the Imperial Knights, to most people. That had never happened before. Not in the entirety of recorded history. Of course there had been ambiguity before, but never on this scale. So what happened to them after that war had ended?"

She had directed that question toward Marc, but all he could do was shrug.

"There were hundreds… maybe thousands of force users floating about the Galaxy, open to any number of influences both positive and negative. The Jedi Council couldn't bring itself to allow them to just roam around, so they tried to incorporate them into the Jedi".

That made some sense to Marc; if there was no way of getting rid of the potential threat then it was only sensible to manoeuvre it into a place where they could keep an eye on it, or influence it in some way. But it would also have been rife with risk.

"Before that", Jani continued, "the selection process for becoming a Jedi was very strict. You had to be young, for a start – a child – when you started your training, so that they could mould you into their idea of right. There have been a couple of notable exceptions. You also had to be emotionally numb, at least a little".

"What do you mean, numb?" Marc asked.

Jani sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she continued to speak, her voice seemed drained; as though she was saying something that she had told a thousand people, none of whom had listened to her. "The Jedi way of life is based on repressing emotions. You aren't allowed to feel _anger_, or _fear_, or even love, because they all 'lead to the Dark Side'". That last part was filled with so much bitterness that Marc wondered how she had ever fit in with those kinds of people. She didn't seem like the type of person who was even capable of keeping her emotions in check, never mind suppressing them completely.

"It was these Knights who paved the way for the Grey Order, though they had no idea they were doing it at the time. While some of them conformed to the Jedi's restrictions, many of them did not. They loved each other. They fought to protect people they cared about. Was that so _wrong_?" She looked at Marc, as though challenging him to answer her. He shook his head, slowly. "They had children. The child of two Force Sensitives is more likely to be sensitive to the Force themselves, and these children became Jedi; Jedi who were influenced by their parents, who were encouraged to think outside of the box that the Jedi tried to put them in".

She fell silent for a moment. Marc wanted to hear more, but didn't want to push her. The conversation had caused her to think of her father. He was a Jedi as well, who had dabbled in the Dark Arts and been ostracised by the Jedi Order – she had already been inducted, and so she and her father were separated. She found out, by accident almost, that he had died a few years after she last saw him.

Marc decided to change the subject. He had been growing more and more worried about the wound in Jani's stomach; the wound that had been caused in the crash where he had first found her. While she was talking she would occasionally look uncomfortable – strained, even – and rubbed the site of her wound. He asked her how it was.

"It's fine", she said, though the look in her eyes told him otherwise. When they got to Hathrass and found a doctor for Garin he would have to convince her to get her own wound looked at. It occurred to him that it was strange that the prospect of Garin's death didn't worry him, but already he cared for this woman enough that the idea that she could die scared him. He wondered what that said about him as a person. Nothing good, he was sure.

"So how do you know Garin?" a voice asked from behind them. It was Elle; she had moved herself closer to the front of the truck and had been listening to their conversation.

"How long have you been there?" Marc asked her. She had only slept for a few minutes.

"Not long", she said vaguely, before turning back to Jani and waiting for an answer to her question.

"Like I said before", Jani said after a while, "we were both with the Rebels. I was with them because of my association with the Grey Order; after all, the Order formed because of a desire to end the war. We met for the first time almost a year ago; he had just been made a lieutenant, along with a couple of other people. The Rebels lose their officers quite quickly, so there are always a lot of promotion parties going on. Gabe and me went along to introduce ourselves; we knew that we'd end up working with him now that he was a lieutenant".

"And Gabe…" Marc said, sheepishly, "Gabe was your…" He trailed off.

"My lover, yeah", Jani finished for him. "Anyway, it was this real fancy get together; all smart suits and billowing frocks. I've never been one for dressing up, so we basically just said our hello's, got introduced and then left. Since then we've served together on… four missions? Five? He'll probably be able to tell you exactly". She glanced back over her shoulder at Garin, still unconscious in the back of the truck. "Best not wake him, though", she said before turning back to Marc and Elle.

Elle still wanted to know more about Jani and Garin. It couldn't be coincidence, she thought, that they had both arrived on Socorro. "You said before about a mission nearby", she said. "What sort of mission?"

Jani smiled. "Why? You seem a little too interested in Rebel secrets. How do I know you're not a spy?"

Elle frowned, angry at the suggestion. "That's ridiculous!" she spat. "Marc, tell her I'm not a spy".

Marc turned to Jani and opened his mouth to speak, but Jani laughed and cut him off. "Relax, kids", she said. "I'm kidding. It doesn't matter anymore who knows about what happened. It all went to hell anyway". She frowned herself, and stretched her back as though uncomfortable. "Hey, do either of you mind if we stop and take a break? I need to stretch my legs a while".

Without waiting for a response, she turned the truck slightly off the path they had been following and pulled to a stop. She pushed open the driver door and got out, stretching her back as she did so. Marc got out on his side, and, after checking that Garin was still comfortable, Elle followed.

By the time Elle had emerged from the truck Jani was already unpacking food from her pack. She passed around the water and divided up some of her bread, which Marc and Elle were quietly grateful for; they hadn't eaten properly since the night before.

"So", Jani said between mouthfuls, "you asked about the mission we were on? " Elle nodded enthusiastically, and Jani started to walk slowly around in a kind of circle around the truck. Marc and Elle began to follow behind her. "It was meant to be the big one", she continued. "We were going to hit them hard, and take their biggest weapon to use against them. In retrospect we probably should have gone in all guns blazing, to try and destroy it outright, you know?" She glanced back at the truck. "That's what Garin said right from the start. One thing I like about that guy is he's not afraid to say what he thinks, no matter who he's talking to". She smiled faintly.

"We were going for the Alliance's flagship – the _Endor_ battle cruiser". Marc had heard stories over the radio about the _Endor_. It was meant to be a descendant of the old Star Destroyers used by the Empire, only with updated weapons and armour. Close to unstoppable, or so the rumour goes. "It was travelling through the outer rim, close to Socorro, completely unescorted on its way to rendezvous with the rest of the Alliance fleet. It was the perfect opportunity to attack. We jumped in with a few ships at first… but with a lot of back-up waiting close by. If things went wrong they'd jump in and try to destroy it.

"Two small teams were sent to board the _Endor_. Myself and Gabe were the Jedi assigned to help, and Garin was the officer in charge of the boarding party. We docked, and encountered a lot of resistance almost straight away, which we expected. Nothing we couldn't deal with, and nothing we hadn't planned for. The idea was that myself and Gabe would sneak through the ship to the bridge and take out the commanders, which we thought would make the soldiers less inclined to fight. Everything was going fine until we got to the bridge…

"They were waiting for us… an Alliance admiral – pompous, smug, arrogant, I'm sure you know the type – and several Jedi".

Marc interrupted then. "Jedi?" he repeated. "You mean… from the Jedi Order?"

Jani nodded. "Yeah", she said. "That's what I'm assuming, anyway. There were four of them. The prick of an Admiral started gloating about how we'd been tricked into a trap, and that we were going to be defeated, blah blah blah. He also said that the Jedi Order has joined forces with the Alliance".

"But…" Marc interrupted again. "But that doesn't make any _sense_. The Jedi have always said that they support the Rebels, but refused to get involved directly. Why would they decide to fight with the Alliance?"

"I don't know", Jani said.

* * *

In the back of the truck, silently, Garin's eyes slowly opened. He had awoke a minute or so, and had strained his ears to listen to the conversation outside.

He was surprised that Jani was opening up and revealing so much to these children; a lot of what she had said he didn't know himself, and he had thought that they were… not friends, exactly, but comrades. And the information about the Jedi… that could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. Though it confirmed the suspicions he'd been having.

He grunted and tried to manoeuvre himself closer to the door. He was still feverish, his vision blurred, and pain shot up his side with every breath he made. When he'd forced himself upright and wedged himself against the truck door he stopped to take a breather, and listened to the voices outside.

Jani was still talking about the Jedi. "The Jedi aren't what they used to be; I've already told you that once. They're not knights of the Republic anymore. They've become introverted… scarred by decades of mistrust and often violence from all corners, yet expected to solve the Galaxy's problems when no one else can. I guess I can't blame them for pulling back. They tried to become… _mythic_ again. Like they were thousands of years ago; revered by the general populace. Their way of doing so was to restrict the amount of information they released about themselves, and limiting the contact they had with outside groups.

"Which is why the formation of the Grey Order was such a blow to them. It proved their fallibility… that they were still just _people_. I guess it's not beyond the realms of imagination that they could have joined with the Alliance simply as a way of countering us… the Greys".

Garin sat in the truck, pondering what was being said. While what Jani was saying wasn't wrong, it didn't sit well with him. The Jedi haven't made a single public move in 70 years. They wouldn't move now if they didn't have some kind of aim in mind… but what?

"And what about the orb?" Elle's voice this time, asking a question that Garin wanted to know the answer to himself. She'd brushed them off before… given them half-truths and answers.

There was a long pause before Jani answered. "It's… strange", she said. "I swear to you, six months ago I knew nothing about any orb, or any storied about it. But suddenly… one day… I woke up and I'd known it all my life". Her voice became strained then, as though the words she was saying were causing her pain. "There is an artefact… in two pieces… and if the pieces are joined… then the Galaxy will die…"

A pause then, before cries from Marc and Elle. From the sound of it, Garin thought, Jani had collapsed.

* * *

It was twenty minutes later when she woke up. Marc and Elle had moved her into a sitting position before Elle went back to the truck to check on Garin. Marc had soaked a cloth in water and was using it to try and cool Jani down; her temperature had soared.

When she woke she couldn't explain what had happened. When she had tried to remember where she knew of the orb from she had become suddenly light-headed, and the next thing she knew she had woken up and it was twenty minutes later.

"I've never felt like that before…" she said, her voice weaker than before, though she was trying to disguise it. "It must be the heat".

Marc had sat down beside her, and they were passing one of their water bottles back and forth between them. Though he had noticed the increase in temperature as they headed south, he was unsure that it could be blamed entirely. There had been something… something he saw in her eyes moments before she collapsed. Like there was someone else behind them, other than her, influencing what she was thinking.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jani suddenly dragging herself to her feet. As he looked up at her he saw the steely look of determination return to her face. That had been the first thing he had really noticed about her; a look on her face that told him that she would never give up until she got what she was trying to get. He admired that about her.

"Where's your girlfriend, kid?" she asked without looking at him.

"She went back to the truck a while ago to check on Garin", he replied.

Jani smiled faintly. "She's doing that a lot, isn't she?" she said mischievously. "You sure there's nothing sinister going on?"

Marc laughed, though he suspected that if Elle had heard her say that she would have been angry. "He's twice her age", he said, still smiling. "Besides, she has issues with the Rebels. Hell, she has issues with the Alliance, too. We all do".

She nodded, thought for a moment and then extended her hand towards Marc, who was still sitting. "Time to go, kid".

Marc grinned and took her hand. She helped him to his feet and the pair began walking slowly back towards the truck. To Marc's surprise, and his secret delight, Jani didn't let go of his hand straight away; instead she held on to it for several seconds. She turned and looked into his eyes, and smiled widely before gently releasing his hand.

"About your friend", she said gently. "It was… Sar, wasn't it?" Marc nodded. "He'll be fine, at least until he's not useful. And as long as the Dark Jedi needs him to open the door then he'll keep being useful".

Marc swallowed. "And that…" he hesitated, unsure how to phrase his question. "To open the door he needs Sar to make the orb glow, like it did before?"

"That's right", Jani replied. She looked at him, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "But… it wasn't him who made it glow before. Was it?"

Marc looked at her, suddenly feeling guilty. "No", he said quietly. "It was me. Does that… mean that Sar's in more danger?"

Jani thought for a moment. "It depends how long he can hide it", she answered. "He would only have until they reach the ruins where the other half of the orb is held either way. If he can keep up the pretence until then it won't make any difference".

"But…" Marc said, "what will happen when they get there and the Dark Jedi realises he has the wrong person?"

Jani stopped walking and looked directly into Marc's eyes, a serious expression on her face. "Then", she said, "your friend will die".


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Hathrass was not what they expected. They had all imagined a steaming cesspool of filth and violence, but the reality was that Hathrass was a bustling metropolis; the buildings soared into the sky, and the lights which covered them never went out. The entire city was covered by a dome which filtered out the dangerous rays from the sun, which meant that the people who lived there spent their days awake and their nights asleep; the opposite of what Marc and Elle were used to.

The people there were just… normal city people. There was obviously crime there but no more or less than anywhere else. The truck that they arrived in stood out like a sore thumb; where the other people on the roads travelled in modern ships that soared into the sky, their truck lumbered along the floor like a decrepit.

Marc and Elle had never seen so many people before. They saw thousands of them lining the streets as they drove past; Hutt's, Mandalorians, Wookies. There were countless different species, many that they had not seen or heard of before. They stared out of the window with wide eyes.

"OK, kid", Jani said. She was still in the driver's seat, but she had no idea where she should head. "Where now?"

Marc glanced at her nervously. He had no idea where they should go either. "Um…" he said, and then hesitated. He glanced around through the window, trying to see something about a hospital or a doctors clinic on the signs that littered the road. He could see nothing. "I don't know", he admitted, finally.

"Over there", Elle said from behind them, and pointed out of the side window. Marc and Jani followed her gaze, and could just make out a large building to the East which had the bright red symbol of a hospital on its side. Jani swerved the truck quickly to the side of the road and turned off the highway they were on, heading for the building.

As they got closer and closer they realised that the building they were heading toward was massive. Bigger than any that Marc had ever seen. Even Elle, who had grown up on a highly developed moon, was impressed by how vast it was, especially for a hospital.

Jani pulled the truck up outside the building and Marc hurried through the doors to find help. He passed through the doors and emerged into a vast reception area. There were dozens of people spread out. Many of them were sat waiting, sick or injured; this was definitely a hospital. He hurried over to one of the desks and explained that they had a severely injured man in a truck outside.

The woman behind the desk listened intently, and then pressed a button and spoke into a microphone. After ten seconds several men dressed as paramedics emerged from a side door, and Marc led them outside to the truck.

Elle and Jani had already begun to move Garin out of the truck, but the paramedics gently pushed them to the side and carried him in.

What happened next was a blur. Afterward Marc remembered following the paramedics into a small room, and watching them use their equipment to open up Garin's stomach and literally sew up his insides. Then the next thing he remembered was sitting outside in the waiting area with Elle and Jani, wondering what they should do next.

"It seemed simple…" Marc said, to no one in particular. "We'd come here and barter for passage on a ship. I mean… Garin never talked about _how_ we'd do it. We don't even have anything to barter _with_. Or any idea of where to start".

"Calm down, kid", Jani said bluntly.

"No I won't calm down!" Marc yelled. Other people sat in the room started to stare at him, wondering what the fuss was about. "My best friend - someone I've known for years – is out there somewhere in trouble and I have no clue how to even start!"

Marc carried on yelling, except now he was yelling at Jani and she was becoming angry. She didn't know how to deal with an angry teenager, and she was close to losing her temper completely before Elle intervened. She grabbed Marc's arm and pulled him back firmly. "Marc… it'll be alright", she said gently, and wrapped her arms around him.

Jani stood up, suddenly. "OK", she said. "Here's what we'll do. You two stay here and wait for the doctors to finish with him. I'll head out and try and find someone willing to give us a ride".

Marc thought about arguing. Despite his theatrics, the last thing he wanted to do was sit and do nothing. But then he saw the look in Jani's eyes and realised for the first time how childish he'd been acting and how far it had pushed Jani. He stayed silent and only watched as Jani walked away.

* * *

Jani spent a long time just driving around. In truth, she had no real idea of where to start looking either. She hadn't expected to see a city like this on Socorro; she thought it was just another backwater planet with nothing on it, like most of the worlds near the outer rim. In truth Hathrass reminded her of the cities on Coruscant, constantly bustling with activity and crammed with people.

If it had been just another backwater town then she would have known where to look. In the absence of a legitimate transport office – or if she needed to avoid the officials – she would have headed straight to the bars and found a smuggler or a bounty hunter to barter with. But here she didn't know where the bars were, or what kind of people were in them.

She found her mind drifting to what had happened on the way here. She had since tried to play it down, but the fact that she had collapsed and had no idea why scared her. She pulled over to the side of the road and decided that she was going to try and figure it out.

_OK_, she thought, _what was I doing when it happened? I was talking to Marc about the Orb. And then I thought about the legends… the stories that I'd… heard about the orb from. _ Her head began to throb, as though just thinking about the stories was enough to cause pain. _And then my head started to hurt, and the next thing I remember is waking up a few minutes later with those two kids standing over me. So is that what made me pass out?_

She tried to remember the first time she had heard the stories about the orb. It had been when she was little, hadn't it? But… who told her? And, now that she thought about it, she didn't remember ever hearing anyone mention it in the years since. Except for Gabe, that is, and he only mentioned it… recently.

And what was that she said before? _One day I woke up and I'd known it all my life._ She supposed that was the best way to explain it. The knowledge was there, and she was simultaneously convinced that she'd both known it since she was a child and yet only learned of it recently.

Could the orb really be that powerful?

* * *

Marc sat in the hospital, in the same spot he had been in when Jani had left over two hours ago. Elle lay next to him, asleep, with her head resting on his lap. They were sat in a corner, along the back wall of the waiting area. He guessed that the room they were in was at least twenty yards each way, and people were constantly coming and going.

He'd spent his time watching them; all different, but all here for one thing – help. He'd seen squid-like species come in with tentacles missing, and Hutts who'd been injured in drunken brawls. It was a bustle of activity that he wasn't used to, and could barely process; how did this hospital keep up with it all? Was it always like this? And what about the rest of the city, was it as busy everywhere else as it was there?

He smiled. He knew he had more important things to think about. Was he just watching other people to avoic dealing with his own problems? He'd been furious for a long time after Jani had left; so angry that Elle had seemed scared of him. When he'd realised that, he forced himself to act like he'd calmed down, but the truth was he was still angry. How could that bitch just leave him here? It had made him feel so useless.

He looked down at Elle, still asleep, and stroked her hair. He wondered if she really understood what she was involved in. Though, he supposed, the same question could be asked of him. He had no idea what was waiting for them, or where they were headed, or how they were going to get there. And the people he was relying on to help him… he'd known one for two weeks and the other for two days. Could he really trust either of them?

He decided that he needed to stop letting himself be pulled along. His friend was out there in trouble, and it seemed as though that was being lost in the strangeness. He wouldn't let himself be left behind again.

"Excuse me sir". The voice surprised him, and he jumped. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he had ignored what was happening around him. It was a woman… a woman with green skin and no hair, another species that Marc had never seen before. He'd lost count of those he'd seen that day. She smiled faintly at him. "You were the gentleman who came in with the man with the stomach injury? A Mr… Garin?"

Marc nodded. His heart was pumping. He was trying to read the woman's face; was she about to tell him that Garin was dead, or that he'd woken up?


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Jani pulled the truck up next to the hospital. Although she'd been gone for two hours she hadn't gotten any closer to figuring out how to get a ship. She'd spent much of her time going over recent events in her head.

She pushed open the doors and entered the waiting area. Her eyes went straight to the corner where she had left Marc and Elle; it was empty. _Shit_, she thought, _where the hell are those kids?_

She walked over to the reception desk and asked the woman behind it if she'd seen them move. She was pointed towards a door at the far end of the room, and told that they had been taken through there by one of the nurses. The moment she passed through the door she was overwhelmed by the smell of… what? Disinfectant? It was the smell of cleanliness to an absurd degree, the kind of smell you found in all modern hospitals.

She looked around. She was surprised by how quiet and relaxed it was in here, especially compared to the constant activity that lay in the waiting area on the other side of the door. Beds were lined up along the walls on either side, with patients occupying every single one of them. The walls, and the furniture, were all white, matching the uniforms of the nurses and doctors. Most of the patients were asleep, but the ones that weren't were just as quiet. Some of them were being spoken to by doctors, others were surrounded by white curtains.

She spotted Marc and Elle standing by a bed at the far end of the hall. As she walked over to them she saw that Elle was smiling. She guessed that meant good news.

Garin was awake, though he looked like shit. He smiled when he saw Jani. "Hey", he said. His voice was stronger than the last time she had heard it, but there was still a quiver underneath that he was trying desperately to hide.

Jani didn't smile when she answered. "Well look who's awake", she said. "I thought you were gone. I guess you're tougher than I thought". She walked around the bed, between Marc and Elle, and sat down in the chair beside it. "Kids", she said to Marc and Elle, "give us a minute, will you?"

Elle started to move away, but Marc stood still. "Don't call us that", he said, his voice almost a growl.

Jani looked at him, surprised at the change in his attitude. "Excuse me?" she said. Marc looked into her eyes. She hadn't noticed the fire in them before. _So_, she thought_, the kid's got spunk. That could either be a help or a hindrance. I'll have to keep a close eye on him_.

"I said", Marc repeated, "don't call us _kids_. If you want us to do something how about _asking us_ for a change?"

Jani sat there in silence. She had no intention of asking nicely. If they wanted her help finding their friend then they would damn well have to do whatever she told them. She opened her mouth, ready to scream at him, but Garin interrupted.

"Please", he said gently, a smile still on his face. "Could you give us a minute alone?"

Marc grunted, but he turned and took Elle away, heading once more for the Hospital waiting area. Jani and Garin watched them go, not speaking until they had passed through the door.

"Soooo…" Garin said, eventually. "Any luck finding a ride? They said you've been gone a couple of hours".

Jani laughed bitterly. "No luck", she sighed. "To be honest, I don't have any idea where to start. This city's nothing like I expected".

Garin's smile widened. "Did you think about _asking_ someone? Even if they don't want to tell you, couldn't you just use your Jedi mind thing to make them tell you?"

Jani didn't answer at first. Of course it had occurred to her to ask, even to use her powers. The truth was she hated the idea of having to rely on anyone else, even for something as simple as directions. She wasn't about to admit it, though; she stayed silent. That just made Garin smile even more.

She decided to change the subject. "So what are your plans?" she asked. "You're heading for the Rebel command, right? To update them on the situation with the Jedi?"

The smile fell from his face, and he thought for a long time. "If this thing is as dangerous as you say it is…" he said eventually, "Then I should go with you".

"_No"_, Jani said, and then realised she had said it too quickly. Garin's eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing in suspicion. Jani thought quickly. "We'll be in a much better position if we have the Rebel Fleet backing us up. You should go back to them, try to explain the gravity of the situation and get them to send help. I'll give you the co-ordinates of the planet. You can meet us there".

At first Garin looked – and felt – suspicious, but he couldn't think of a reason why Jani would want him out of the way so he let it go. "Alright", he said, "but we can't go directly to Tatooine. We can't let Marc and Elle know where the Rebel base is".

Jani smiled faintly. "Why?" she asked. "Don't trust them?"

He looked at her as though she was being ridiculous. "It doesn't make any difference whether I do or don't", he explained. "It's dangerous for anyone to know. If the Alliance gets to them there's no telling how far they'd go to extract that information. So it's best that they be kept in the dark regarding the specifics". Up until then he had been sat up in his bed, but a look of exhaustion suddenly passed over his face and he moved to lie down again. As he did so, Jani noticed the grimace as he strained his wound; clearly he wasn't anywhere near fully recovered. Which was bad, because, though she didn't want to admit it, she needed help in her search for a ship.

She put her hand gently on Garin's shoulder. "Get some rest", she said softly, and stood up. "Don't worry, we'll find a ship to take us off this rock, one way or another. We'll head to a neutral planet, somewhere on the way to where we're going, and you can catch a ride from there to Tatooine".

She supposed she'd have to rely on those two _kids_ to help her.

* * *

Marc and Elle were back in the spot in which they had spent so much time waiting. They'd passed the time by talking about trivial things; the city, and how much different it was from what they knew, the sights that they wanted to see, and the people they wanted to meet. They played a game; they tried to see how many different species they could see in the hospital – they were up to twelve so far.

Marc was trying to pretend that he wasn't still angry. He knew that Elle felt uncomfortable whenever he was. Scared, even. And so he acted happy and carefree, when in truth his insides were burning with anger; not with Jani, she was just a target for it. He hated feeling so _helpless_ all the time. And it hadn't started with Sar being taken. It had been happening all his life – always relying on other people; his brother, his parents, _her_.

Well not anymore.

"Hey", a voice shocked him out of his thoughts. It was Jani, standing next to him – she'd walked up to him without him even noticing. Neither Marc or Elle responded to her greeting. "We need to find a ship. I think we'd do better if we all went looking. You know, six eyes are better than two".

They headed out of the hospital, toward their truck. When they got to it, Jani stopped and asked if either Marc or Elle had any ideas of where to start. Marc just shrugged, but Elle immediately walked over to the nearest person she saw and asked if they knew where they could find a ship.

The man – a tall, squid like species that Marc couldn't remember the name of – thought for several seconds before answering. "Well…" he said eventually, "if you're wanting to rent your own ship then you'll want to head for the Starship Imporium in the Market district. If you're just looking for a ride then your best bet is finding some of the merchant traders who travel from planet to planet – they'll either be trading in the Market district, or a better bet would be the bars in the Recreation District".

Marc and Jani looked on as the man searched his belongings for a pen and scrap paper, and then wrote down directions both for the Market and Recreation Districts. Elle thanked him and walked back over to them, a broad smile on her face. Jani looked at her, and then she smiled and took the paper from her. "Smart ass", she said, playfully.

* * *

It took about ten minutes to reach the Recreation District following the man's directions. They had decided to head for the bars; they had nowhere near enough money to even rent a ship, and nothing to barter with other than the beat up old truck they were driving. And besides, Jani felt more comfortable dealing with people in bars; talking to drunks, she spoke their language.

They drove slowly through it, on the lookout for a suitable place to visit. "There", Jani said, and indicated towards one of the larger bars. "It's big, it's busy; I bet we can find someone willing to give us a ride in there". She pulled the truck up next to it, but she didn't get out immediately. Instead a serious look passed over her face. "Look", she said. "This place might look nice; clean, new. But all bars are the same. There will be people in there who are dangerous, and they'll look to take what they want from you any way they can". She was looking at Marc when she spoke, as though she were more concerned about him than Elle. "Stick as close to me as you can. Don't talk to anyone unless I do first. Understand?"

Elle nodded immediately, but Marc hesitated. _I know how to handle myself_, he thought. _Why is she treating me like a child_? When he saw the look on Jani's face, though, he nodded that he understood.

The inside of the bar was like nothing Marc had ever seen. The walls were covered with exotic artwork, and sculptures lined the floors. The tables and chairs were laid out over three levels, with a large dance floor at the centre of the bottom level. The bar itself lined the back wall on each level, and half naked women tended it. Pounding music blasted out of speakers which were spread throughout the building.

The people there were just as exotic as the décor. A dozen species lined the floor, swaying with the music.

As Jani, Elle and Marc moved through the bar they watched in wonder as the ceiling lit up and lights covered everything. Elle thought that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. As she stared upward she unknowingly fell behind the other two. Eventually she stopped moving completely and simply stood there.

"Pretty, ain't it?" A man had moved up behind her. His voice was gruff but friendly, and when Elle turned to face him she saw that he was smiling. "Yeah", he continued, "it's the reason I like this place so much".

"It's beautiful", Elle said, smiling. "I've never been here before".

"I thought I hadn't seen you around". The man moved closer to her. "How about a drink?" he asked.

Elle was about to answer, but she suddenly felt a hand grab her arm. It was Marc. "She's fine, thanks", he said to the man, and pulled her away.

When they were out of his earshot, he pulled her around roughly to face her. "Didn't you hear what Jani said?" he asked angrily. "People here are dangerous. Don't talk to anyone".

"But", Elle said, her eyes wide, "he seemed nice. We were just talking about how nice this place is". She was upset, but she was trying to hide it. Marc dragged her over to where Jani was sitting and sat her down next to her.

Jani was talking to a group of men who were sat in a far corner of the bar. They were merchant traders, at least officially; Jani suspected that they also dabbled in a little smuggling, though they were not admitting it. She thought that they were prime candidates for bartering a ride from.

"Look, lady", one of the men said, his voice impatient. "You come down here, with nothing to offer us, asking for a ride to god knows where. What do you expect us to do? Jus welcome you strangers onto our ship? Get real".

"All we want is a ride off this rock", Jani said, her voice calm. "We don't care where to, and we won't be any trouble to you or your crew – there are only four of us".

"Get lost", the man said, and then turned away. Jani sat there for a moment, considering her next move. She thought about threatening the men; she could take them down easily, but intimidating them would be more difficult. Eventually she decided to give up on these men, and look elsewhere. She stood – Marc and Elle following behind – and walked to the centre of the room. She spun around slowly, looking for potential targets.

To her surprise, her choice was almost made for her. There was a man sat across the room from them, wearing a large brown coat, his head lowered down so far she could hardly see it. He was staring straight at them. She hesitated; this man obviously had an agenda, that much she could tell without even speaking to him. She strode over to him, Marc and Elle in tow, and sat down opposite him. They stared at each other for almost a minute, neither of them saying anything.

Eventually, the man grinned; his teeth were yellow, but his eyes were friendly. "Hi", he said. His voice was full and booming, and they had no trouble hearing him even over the loud music. "I see you're looking for something. Maybe I could help".

Jani was interested – she'd try anything – but acted cautiously. "What makes you think we're looking for something?" she asked. "Maybe we're just here for a good time".

"You don't look like you're having a good time", the man said, still smiling. "You've been moving from group to group, looking like you've been turned down by the lot of them".

Jani's eyes narrowed. "You've been watching us, then?"

"I have". The man shifted in his seat. He raised his head so that the others could see more of it. He was human; stubble covered his chin, and his eyes were a pale blue, as though they'd seen too much sun. He looked rough, but his smile was friendly; Jani tried to find some malice underneath it, but she couldn't. "Garr's the name", he said, loudly, and extended his hand towards Jani.

She hesitated, but eventually took it in hers and shook it. "Jani", she said bluntly.

"A lovely name, to be sure", he said, before extending his hand to Marc and then Elle, who both shook it cautiously. When that was finished Garr took a long swig from the bottle that had been on the table in front of him, and burped loudly. "So", he said while wiping his mouth, "what is it exactly that you've been looking for?"

Jani decided to take a leap of faith and tell him. "We're looking for a ride off this rock. We have places we need to get to but no way to get there, so we've been moving from group to group trying to find someone willing to take us with them. There are four of us; us three and an injured man who's at the hospital now".

Garr nodded as though he understood. "OK", he said. "You have somewhere to go but you don't want to tell anyone where it is… I'm heading to Dantooine. Is that on your way?"

Jani was stunned. Dantooine was perfect; it was neutral, so good for Garin, and it was in the direction that the Dark Jedi had gone. She nodded.

"Just one small problem", Garr said, his smile faltering. Jani stayed impassive on the outside, but she sagged on the inside. Somehow she knew that there would be a catch.

"My ship…" Garr said, reluctantly. "It's been stolen. You and your friends help me get it back I'll take you to Dantooine. Free of charge".

Jani was immediately suspicious. She thought for a moment, and then stood up. "We'll be back", she said, and then she motioned for Marc and Elle to follow her as she walked away. They exited the bar and huddled together near their truck. "OK", Jani said when they were alone. "This guy's obviously hiding something. What he's asking us to do might be illegal, and it will certainly be dangerous". Mark and Elle listened intently as Jani spoke. "Do either of you have a problem with breaking the rules? Doing things that might be considered immoral to find your friend?"

Marc shook his head immediately. Elle hesitated, but when she saw Marc's reaction she shook her head as well. Jani nodded. "OK", she said, and they returned to the bar. Garr was sat in the same spot as when they had left, with the same wide grin on his face. He watched them from the moment they re-entered the building and as they walked towards him.

"We'll do it", she said. "But if you try and double cross us I swear you'll regret it".

Garr nodded enthusiastically. "Fair enough", he said.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"It'll be difficult".

Jani and Garr were out surveying the warehouse in which the ship was being held. There were some fairly promising signs. The warehouse was located in a densely packed area of the city, and the surrounding buildings would provide good cover as well as a good vantage point for someone with a rifle. The warehouse had two entrances; a large retractable door for getting heavy equipment and vehicles in and out, and a smaller door by the side for people. The warehouse roof, it appeared, was also fully retractable, so if they needed to make a hasty escape with the ship they would have to find the mechanism for opening the roof.

There were, however, a large number of guards stationed outside – around ten or so – and an unknown number inside the warehouse. Jani and Garr had been observing the warehouse for an hour, and in that time they'd seen five men come out of the warehouse – sometimes just for a break, other times to relieve one of the guards outside. That put the number of men they'd need to take out at at least fifteen.

When they had decided that they'd seen enough, they wordlessly shuffled backwards from their vantage point on top of a building opposite the warehouse and made their way back down the stairs.

"So…" Jani said quietly to Garr as they walked. "Tell me again how they managed to steal your ship from you." Jani made no effort to disguise the fact that she was less than convinced of Garr's story.

Garr seemed not to notice. "Like I said, I landed in there, went into the town to try and find some spare parts, and when I got back there they were – crowding around like a bunch of rats".

They had reached the bottom of the building, and they turned to head back to the hospital. "So that means you must have an idea of the layout inside", Elle said. "Like… how to open the doors, and retract the roof".

Jani was impressed at how little Garr hesitated, but she was now convinced that he was lying to them. "I've got a basic feel for the place", he said. "But for the roof… I wasn't the one who opened it, there was someone here operating the mechanism, and the door was already open when I left. I can tell you that the inside is almost all one big room where the ship is held. There's a small office above it, which is where I imagine the controls are".

They were quiet for the rest of the walk back to the clinic. Garin had awakened while they were gone, and the Doctor told them that the signs were he would make a full recovery, though it would take some time. He sat up as they entered, and Jani noticed the wince when he did. He was clearly still in no condition to help them attack the warehouse.

This was troubling, because Jani was convinced that it would take three people to successfully assault the warehouse. She would be able to enter through the back; if there was no back entrance then she could use her light sabre to cut a hole. She would then move through the warehouse towards the entrance, open the main door and lure as many of the people inside the building out after her. At that point she would need two people outside, situated in vantage points in the surrounding buildings on either side, to attack while she took cover. With two people firing across the entrance from either side they would be able to take out much more of the defending force than if there were only one, and it would cause much more confusion, meaning that they would be less likely to organise a successful counter attack.

She asked Marc and Elle to leave the room, which they – reluctantly – agreed to do, and then she proceeded to explain her plan of attack to Garin and Garr. Garin agreed that it would have a lot more chance of success if they could find someone else to help.

"I should go with you…" he said, a concerned look on his face. He clearly felt that it was his responsibility – he was the one who had been so determined to get off this planet, after all.

"Can you even walk?" Jani asked. "How's your vision? The doctor tells me that you still pass out every now and then". Garin looked as though he was about to argue, but Jani cut him off. "No, you'd be too much of a liability. We need someone that we know will stay alert".

Garin thought about arguing, but he knew that Jani was right. "What about Marc?" he said eventually.

"No", Jani said quickly. "I don't want him in danger. He's too valuable".

"What do you mean, too valuable?"

Jani, Garin and Garr all looked towards the door. Marc was stood there, a defiant expression on his face. Elle was stood close behind him, a little more nervously. He strode into the room and repeated his question. "_What do you mean too valuable?_"

Janni looked at him and sighed. "Why do you think I want you to come with me?" she asked. "Neither of you can fight, or have any experience. Hell, you don't even know your way around. So why would I want you to come with me when you'll just be a liability?"

Marc looked down, embarrassed by her harsh words. However much he tried, he could not think of any reason that he should be taken along. Elle put his hand in his, and stepped forwards.

"Because Marc is the one who made the fragment glow", she said, quietly. "That's why Sar was taken; the other Jedi thinks that he was the one who made it glow, doesn't he? So when he finds out that he wasn't he'll come looking for Marc. We're _bait_, right?"

Jani smiled, obviously impressed. She nodded, gently.

"But…" Elle continued, "But what will happen to Sar when the other Jedi finds out that he's not the one he wants?"

Jani turned away. She walked to the corner of the room and leaned against the wall, and she did not answer Elle's question.

Garin looked back and forth from Elle to Jani. "This isn't helping", he said. "Marc wants to help, right?" Mark nodded. "So he should help. The quicker we get this done the better for Sar".

Jani sighed again. She looked towards Garr. "What about you?" she asked. "What do you think?"

Garr smiled widely. "Hell", he said, loudly. "Anything that improves our chances is fine by me".

Jani stayed silent for a while. She was outvoted, and she knew it. She stood up straight and strode towards the door. When she got to it – and got closest to Marc – she said "Fine" and walked out of the room.

* * *

They waited until nightfall, and then positioned themselves in a building opposite the warehouse.

"Let's go over it once more", Jani said. Marc protested, saying that he understood the plan and there was no need to go over it again, but Jani waved away his protests. "I'll go in through the back. If there's no door back there I'll make a hole with my light sabre". As she said it, her hand moved to her side and grabbed her Jedi weapon. She wouldn't admit it, but having it there relaxed her before a battle, and she felt safer knowing it was there. "You two position yourselves in this building – not at the top, around half-way up. I'll move through the building and open the front gate, try and draw most of them outside. When I'm clear, and you've got a good shot, you open fire. Take down as many as you can".

"Cool", Garr said. He seemed happy that he would be in a relatively safe place. He stood up and headed towards the stairs. Marc started to follow him, but Jani put her hand on his arm and stopped him. They looked at each other.

"Marc", she said. "Stay out of sight and stay safe. If you think you're in trouble then run".

Marc looked at her, surprised at the concern she had been showing for his safety. "Why do you care?" he asked her, bluntly.

She smiled, and Marc realised that he found her incredibly attractive. She moved her hand upwards, onto his chest, and looked deep into his eyes. "Because I do", she said softly. They continued to look at each other. Marc's heart started to pound, and he thought about moving in to kiss her. But she moved away. "Go on", she said. "Get going. I'll see you later".

Marc hesitated for a moment, confused about what he was feeling, but eventually he realised that he had to move. He followed Garr up the stairs.

Jani watched him go, and then smiled. She stood and headed towards the warehouse, being careful not to be seen by the guards outside. There were five outside, and she guessed that there would be more than that inside. If this was going to work she was going to have to get as close to the door as possible on the inside, open it and then create enough ruckus to draw most of them out.

The warehouse was surrounded by a high wall, which suited Jani as it allowed her to move around the building without being seen. She went around to the back and then climbed over, having to be careful to avoid the razor wire that had been spread across the top. She jumped down on the inside of the compound. The moment her feet touched the ground it began to rain, heavily. Bad news, she thought. It would limit visibility, make it harder for Marc and Garr to get clear shots.

She couldn't worry about that now. She looked quickly from side to side. There was no door back here; perfect, she thought. Now she could break through the wall and have the element of surprise on her side. Assuming, of course, that she didn't emerge in the middle of a group of them.

She moved closer to the wall. She gently placed her hand on it and tried to use the Force to sense what was on the other side. She moved from the eastern side to the west. The majority of the western side would lead her into an open hall; presumably the main hangar bay. She could sense that there were several people in there. _So_, she thought, _a place to avoid, then_.

She moved to the side until she got past the hangar bay; by then she was almost three quarters of the way across the building. She sensed a smaller room, clear of people. She decided that this would be the perfect place to break through.

She pulled her light sabre from its holster, and turned it on. The dull hum that it caused comforted her; though she was calm on the outside, her heart was pounding in her chest. Not with fear, but with adrenaline. She loved the moment before a battle.

She prepared herself to cut through the wall. She closed her eyes.

_This is it_, she thought.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"So", Marc said. "What do you do exactly?"

Marc and Garr had made their way onto the fifth floor of the building. It was high enough to give them a good view of the courtyard in front of the warehouse, but low enough to give them a quick escape if it went bad. They'd been sat for several minutes, and Marc was growing more and more nervous. He had decided to start talking to take his mind off it.

Garr looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "Why so interested?" he asked.

"I don't know", Marc said. "Just passing the time, I suppose. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to".

Garr sat silent for a moment, contemplating his answer. Eventually he seemed to come to a conclusion. "I'm a smuggler", he said, matter-of-factly. Marc's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected Garr to answer so honestly. "I carry illegal goods from planet to planet, trying to turn a profit".

Marc looked at him. "And is that why you're on this planet?" he asked. "Trying to turn a profit?"

"Exactly". Garr smiled widely. He shuffled in his seat. "I came here to deliver some… uh… _chemicals_, but I was double crossed. They took the goods _and _my ship, and now I'm stranded here unless I can get it back. I don't really care about the goods, but I can't stand the idea of being marooned here for the rest of my life".

"So who are they?" Marc asked, indicating towards the warehouse. "The people we're about to kill?"

"They're… gangsters, I suppose. They deal in drugs, and weapons, and _death_", Garr said, the smile falling from his face. "Trust me, kid. This world will be a damn sight better with them gone".

Marc looked out over the warehouse, at the five men standing guard outside, and wondered if Garr was telling him the truth.

"Don't call me kid", he said absent mindedly.

* * *

Elle sat by Garin's bed; he had woken up for barely ten minutes since they'd left. The warehouse was quite close by, so they had brought the truck back here and walked. She was getting bored, and the constant worrying about whether Marc was safe was driving her mad. _How could he leave me here like this?_ she wondered. _Why is he so determined to put himself in danger? What is he trying to prove?_

She shook her head, as though trying to shake the dark thoughts out of her mind. It didn't work. She stood up and decided that what she really needed was some fresh air. She checked Garin over one more time to make sure he was comfortable, and asked one of the nurses to tell him that she'd stepped outside if he woke up.

She strode through the waiting area, not looking around at anyone, and pushed open the front doors. She stood outside, leaning against the old truck, trying to sort her feelings out; fear, anger, love. She didn't even see the man until he was stood next to her.

His face was soft and smooth, and his smile looked warm. He was dressed smartly – like a businessman might – and he didn't move in a threatening way. Elle, who was a very sociable person, did not see any reason to be afraid of him. If she had looked in his eyes, however, she would have seen the look of a predator stalking its prey.

"Hey again", he said, his voice friendly. Elle looked at him and didn't recognise him at first. She smiled, though, not wanting to admit it. "So…" he continued. "How about that drink?" When he said that Elle recognised him as the man who had spoken to her in the bar, and who had offered her a drink.

She breathed out, feeling a little less nervous. He held his hand out to her; he was holding a bottle of what looked like water, and she realised how thirsty she was. She hadn't drunk anything since the morning – they were too preoccupied when they were in the bar, and they had run out of their own water earlier that day. She smiled and took the bottle.

She slowly unscrewed the top. A voice in her head was telling her that it would be a mistake to drink out of it, but the man seemed very friendly. She found it hard to believe that he meant her harm.

She took a swig out of the bottle and immediately she knew that she'd made a mistake. It had a sour taste; something had been put in it. It took barely a few seconds for her vision to start getting blurred. She stumbled away from the man, who followed her, grinning widely.

And then she blacked out.

* * *

Garin awoke with a start. His side was still aching, but it was at least better than it had been. He looked around, and quickly realised that he was alone. _Where's Elle?_ he asked himself. _Wasn't she here before?_ For a moment, he wondered if his mind had been playing tricks on him. He got the attention of one of the nurses, who walked over to him smiling.

"Good morning", she said. "Good to see you awake".

Garin smiled. He hadn't failed to notice how beautiful she was, but he had other things to think about now. "Thanks", he said. "Was there a girl here before? Young, blonde?"

The nurse nodded. "She said to tell you that she was going outside for some air, but that was quite a long time ago. Do you want me to go check on her?"

Garin shook his head. "I'll go myself", he said, and started to get out of bed.

The nurse moved to try and stop him. "You shouldn't try and get up yet", she said, her voice nervous. "You haven't recovered enough…"

Garin waved her protests away as he put on his coat. He smiled at her. "I'll be fine", he said calmly. He walked slowly out of the hospital, trying his hardest to conceal strain of walking. When he got outside he looked around; there was no sign of Elle out there. Where could she have gone? She wouldn't have left on her own. He was worried.

He started to walk over to the truck and searched the ground as he walked. He suddenly heard the loud screech of tires spinning on a road, and the truck started to move away from him. "Hey!" he shouted after it, and started running.

* * *

Marc was starting to get worried. Jani had been gone for too long, he thought. What if something had happened to her? What if she'd been killed?

He told Garr that he was worried, but Garr brushed him off. "If she'd been caught", he reasoned, "then security outside would have been tightened, and I haven't seen any change". This made sense to Marc, but it didn't stop him feeling worried.

He started to fidget, and shift position. Garr looked at him, a slightly amused smile on his face, but he stayed silent.

_You should go help her_, a voice in Marc's head told him.

Then another voice said, _She'll be fine. She's strong enough to take care of herself. Stronger than you._

_Even so… you should at least _try_ to help her_, the first voice said_. What if she's hurt, or worse?_

_The plan_, the second voice said, _was for you to wait. If you leave your position then you put all three of you at risk._

Then a third voice, unfamiliar, spoke. It boomed in Marc's head, drowning out all other thoughts and feelings, and it chilled Marc to the bone.

_She does not deserve to live_, it said, and Marc believed it with all his soul.

An explosion shook Marc out of his thoughts. Garr was screaming at him to get in position… he couldn't tell how long he had been lost in thought. Marc looked back toward the warehouse. The entrance was shrouded in smoke and flame, but Marc could just make out several figures emerging from a hole in the gate. Marc rushed to get into position, in a building opposite and to the east of the warehouse gate.

He heard screams, and saw the glow of a light sabre through the smoke. Jani was alive, and she was cutting down the enemy like they weren't there. As soon as the smoke cleared enough for him to see, Marc opened fire. Garr did the same.

The enemy were falling quickly, one after another. Garr was impressive with a rifle, but Jani was taking most of them down on her own with her light sabre. Marc took a moment to admire her. She moved like a dancer – everything was smooth, and it almost appeared like she was moving before the men had moved to attack her, as though she knew what they were going to do before they did it.

With the glow from inside the warehouse lighting up the battle, Marc realised that she was beautiful – strong, graceful and mysterious. Everything he thought the Jedi would be. He wondered to himself how many battles she had been in before today, and whether or not she had found this one even slightly challenging.

He felt a sudden pain in his stomach. At first he didn't react – the shock had rendered him motionless. Then the pain quickly spread up his body. He grunted in pain, and fell backward slowly.

He heard Jani shout his name, but she sounded as though she were miles away.

Then the world went completely black.

* * *

Elle's world was spinning. She didn't know where she was, or how she had got there. Her eyes were open but she couldn't make anything out. She could hear a voice, but couldn't understand what it was saying. She felt a hand touch the inside of her leg. It moved gently upwards, caressing her. It felt… good.

Then there were more hands, tearing at her clothes. A voice inside her head was screaming _danger_, and she managed to let out a dull scream. A hand clasped over her mouth, trying to shut her up, but she was coming around now… and she was starting to fight them.

She managed to wriggle free from them, and scratched on of them deeply across the face. She heard him cry out in pain, and she used the opportunity to run. She fell toward the door and tore it open, screaming as she did so.

Garin clutched his side. His wound had reopened with the effort of running. He'd lost sight of the truck a while ago, and he was now desperately running in the last direction he saw it moving in. He didn't know exactly what had happened to Elle, but he knew that he needed to find her. He held a blaster pistol in his other hand and was more than prepared to use it.

Unknown to either of them, Elle and Garin were heading towards each other. Both were stumbling as they ran. Elle wasn't fast enough, though, and one of the men chasing her managed to grab her and wrestle her to the ground.

"Stupid bitch!" he yelled, and hit her hard across the face. Garin heard the voice just around the corner from where he was. He slowed, wanting to make sure that he knew what he was up against. He waited just around the corner, and peeked around. What he saw made his blood boil. Elle was lying in a heap on the floor, her clothes either torn or missing completely. Three men stood over her, one with a large cut on his face.

Garin squeezed the gun he held in his hand, and made himself ready to attack. He span around the wall, not wanting to give the men any time to react, and opened fire. The men went down easily, one by one. Two of them died before they hit the ground. The other – the man with the cut on his face – was still alive. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a gurgling sound. The blast had cut through his neck.

Garin hurried over to Elle. "Elle", he said, kneeling down beside her. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Elle looked up at him as though she didn't recognise him. Tears were streaming down her face, and her eyes darted around like she couldn't focus. Garin had seen these effects before – a common drug used to incapacitate victims.

The injured man was still gurgling. Garin was furious. He turned around to face the man. He stared at him, wordlessly, for a while before wrapping his hands tightly around his neck.

* * *

Garr stood, smiling, surrounded by bodies which lay scattered around inside and outside the warehouse. He was staring up at the ship… the ship that was worth all this death. He didn't feel any guilt about the slaughter that he'd instigated, just the warm feeling of victory.

He admired the curves of the hull, and the sheer blackness of the metal. It was so dark, he thought, that he felt like he could fall into it and lose himself. It ran about fifty feet from front to back – much larger than a fighter, and with a longer range, but small enough to be manoeuvrable in a battle. Its front end was pointed and as the hull went backwards it spread out to the side, forming wings – it looked like it had also been designed to be able to handle an atmosphere as well as deep space.

Jani was yelling at him to help her. She was knelt beside Marc, who was bleeding heavily from the wound to his stomach. Garr didn't hear her – or he chose not to. He moved closer to the ship, and put his hand on it, feeling the cold, smooth metal. His hand moved sideways, stroking it, until it reached the mechanism to lower the boarding ramp. He switched it, and the ramp lowered. He was about to board the ship when a hand slammed down on his shoulder, shocking him out of the trance he was in.

"Hey, asshole", Jani's voice boomed from behind him. "Marc's hurt. Help me get him on the ship; the medical bay on there should have what we need to treat him". Garr looked at her. She knew that he was trying to decide whether to help her or to try and leave them there. She sympathised – why should he get involved with them when they're more trouble than they're worth? Never the less, she moved her hand to her side and grabbed the handle of her light sabre, making sure that his eyes followed her hand. He got the message.

With Garr's help she managed to move Marc onto the ship and into its medical bay. She made him as comfortable as she could, and then she grabbed her communicator.

"Garin", she said into it. "Come in. We've secured the ship but Marc was injured. Get here as fast as you can".

* * *

Garin heard the message. He and Elle were still in the same spot, her head still buried in his chest, crying. When they heard that Marc was hurt, however, she raised her head and looked into Garin's eyes.

"Can you help me walk?" she asked him. He was surprised at the sudden conviction that he saw in her face, as though the thought of Marc being hurt meant more to her than the trauma she'd just experienced. He smiled down at her.

"With this hole in my side, I think we need to help each other walk", he said, and stood up slowly.

She grabbed him arm and used him as leverage to stand, and he grunted in pain. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she shrieked, genuine concern filling her voice. He smiled at her again, and gave her a dismissive gesture. The two figures then limped in the direction of the warehouse.

Jani stood at the top of the boarding ramp, waiting for Garin and Elle to arrive. She had reservations about leaving Garr alone on the ship, as she suspected that he would leave them here without a second thought. She was interested in knowing a little more about the men they had just killed, however, and allowed herself a minute to leave the ship and search the body closest to her.

It was a Mandalorian wearing a black outfit. Jani searched through his pockets, which were empty, and then she turned her attention to the rest of his body. If these were criminals, she thought to herself, why don't they have anything on them? Then she noticed a small bulge in his jacket. She lifted it up to find a bag, attached to the man's belt by a cloth strap. She opened it and took something out.

At that moment, Garin and Elle arrived. They saw Jani kneeling in front of them with her back to them.

"Hey", shouted Garin. "A little help". Jani didn't respond for a moment. She didn't even move. She just sat there as though lost in thought. "_Hey"_, Garin shouted, a little louder this time. This appeared to shake Jani out of whatever she was thinking about. She looked back over her shoulder at them, and Garin waved for her to come over and help.

She moved closer to them, and Garin put his arm around her shoulder. She led him slowly and wordlessly up the ramp and into the ship. She led him straight into the cockpit, and sat him down in one of the empty chairs. She pointed Elle in the direction of the medical bay, who ran off to see Marc.

"We're ready", she said calmly to Garr, who had been sat waiting in the pilot seat.

"About damn time", he said, gruffly. He quickly switched several switches on the consoles in front of and above him, and the ship roared into life. "Can't wait to see what this baby can do", he said to himself. "Here we go".

The ship rose gracefully into the air, and then accelerated out of Socorro's atmosphere. Elle stared out of the window of the medical bay. Somehow, she knew that she would never see this place again. And she did not feel sad.


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

The _Raven_ floated in deep space several hours later. It was intact, other than for some minor blaster damage on the hull. Marc and Garin had both been taken to the medical bay; Garin would be fine, but Marc was in a bad way. The wound in his stomach was bleeding uncontrollably, and he was writhing in pain.

Elle stood and watched, motionless, as Jani desperately tried to sedate him. Marc's thrashing around was stopping her from getting close, and the screams of pain that he was making were almost painful to listen to. Tears swelled up in Elle's eyes, and the horror of what she was seeing overwhelmed her. She ran out of the room, crying.

Jani screamed at Garin to help her, to try and keep Marc from thrashing around. Garin grabbed his arms, but he still had trouble keeping him still; Marc had strength in him that no one had seen before. Eventually, though, they managed to keep him still long enough for Jani to inject some sedative. It took a few seconds to kick in, but when it did he fell soundly asleep.

Jani and Garin turned to each other. Both were covered in Marc's blood. The look that they shared said everything; neither of them expected Marc to survive for long. The facilities on this ship were good but nowhere near enough for them to treat him. Even if they were, neither Jani nor Garin had the medical expertise to help him.

"What do you think we should do?" Garin asked, his voice worried. "Should we go back? To the hospital? I imagine there'll be people waiting for us who won't be too friendly".

"No", Jani said, reluctantly. "We have to move forward. We'll get him some medical attention when we get to Dantooine". She moved over to the sink and started to wash the blood from her arms. "Assuming he lasts that long".

Garin sat down on an empty bed. "Shit", he said, bitterly.

Jani turned to face him. She was worried about Marc; if he died she would lose everything she was working towards. But there was another problem. One that she couldn't solve on her own. "Listen", she said, softly. "Those people back on Socorro. The ones we attacked, took this ship from. Well I searched one of them, just before you showed up, and I found something that you might be interested in". She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small wallet, and handed it to Garin.

He opened it and looked down at what was inside. As he realised what it meant, his eyes filled with anger. It was an Alliance identity card. It meant that the people they killed were Alliance soldiers, and that, unknowingly, they'd brought a lot of shit down on themselves.

"That son of a bitch", he said, angrily. "He lied to us. Didn't he say that they were criminals; smugglers, thieves, murderers?"

Jani smiled, bitterly. "Why are you so angry?" she asked, petulantly. "You're a Rebel. Killing Alliance soldiers is what you do all the time".

"But it always for a reason", he shouted back at her. "We don't kill them just to steal a stupid ship! It's not right!"

The smile stayed on Jani's face. "I hate to break it to you", she said, "but that's exactly what we were doing when we boarded the _Endor_". Garin looked at her, sudden realisation filling his face. "We went there to steal their ship, remember? And we were prepared to kill every Alliance soldier on board to get it – hundreds of them, maybe thousands".

"That was different –" Garin started.

"How was it different", she interrupted. "Garin, you're in denial. You shouldn't be angry about what we did, you should be angry that we didn't know we were doing it". She strode over to the door and looked back at this. "That fucker lied to us to get what he wanted, without thinking about the shit that it would bring down on us. And _that _makes me angry". With that she stormed away. Garin stood there for a moment, considering whether he should follow her.

He decided it was safer not to.

* * *

Garr was sat in the cockpit of the Raven. He was still admiring how beautiful the ship was; the outside was smooth black, but if anything he was even more impressed with the interior. Everything shone, and everything _worked_; a rare thing for smaller ships these days. He knew that he hadn't even begun to find all of the little nuances that the ship had, but the ones he had found were making him giddy. This ship had a _cloak_. He hadn't seen a cloak outside of the high end military fighters, and they were prototypes. He figured that was what this ship must be, and that was why his employers were so keen to get it.

His joy was short-lived, however. Jani strode up behind him. He turned to face her with a smile, but when he saw the expression on her face he knew that she'd found something. She threw something at him; a wallet, which he saw had an Alliance ID inside. _Shit_, he thought.

"You _fucking idiot!"_ she screamed. "Have you any idea how badly you fucked up? What we're doing is important, and you do something that gets the Alliance on our asses?"

"I don't – " Garin started to protest, but he was quickly interrupted.

"Shut the hell up!" Jani's face was red with anger, her eyes were bulging from their sockets; Garr was starting to get a little scared. She moved her face close to his; so close that they could be about to kiss. Her eyes were bloodshot and her forehead was crinkled with frowning. "You're lucky we're not alone on this ship", she growled, "or I would have killed you already".

They both stayed still then, for what seemed like minutes; Jani's face contorted with rage and Garr's with fear. He was starting to think he'd made a mistake letting her on board.

They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. It was Garin, and Elle was stood nervously behind him.

"Sorry to interrupt", he said, "but we need to work out what we're going to do next". He walked into the cockpit and sat down in the second pilot's chair. "We're headed to Dantooine, right? How long until we get there?"

Garr glanced nervously at Jani, as though he thought she might pounce if he moved. She grunted and moved back a little, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Garr relaxed a little, and cleared his throat. "A couple of hours to get there, half an hour to clear all the landing procedures".

Garin nodded. That might be enough. "We need to find a hospital for Marc as soon as we get there. Do we have any maps of the area?"

"I'll pull one up". Garr pressed a few buttons on the front console and a map of Dantooine's capital city came up on screen. They studied it for a moment. "Looks like there's a hospital not far from the main landing zone. We could get him there pretty easily".

Garr leaned back in his chair and nervously rubbed the side of his head. "There is one problem, though", he said.

The angry look reappeared on Jani's face. "Another one", she said. "You're just full of them, aren't you?"

Garr laughed. "Yeah", he said. "I always have been. Anyway… there's a reason I'm heading to Dantooine. My partner's there, working. I'm going there to pick her up".

"Uh…" Jani said. "Working?"

"Yeah". Garr shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "She's… um… she's running a scam? On one of the crime syndicates down there?"

Jani rolled her eyes. "Great", she said, sarcastically. "So as well as the Alliance chasing after us, we'll have these fuckers as well". She strode over to Garr and punched him hard in the face. "You _asshole!_" she screamed.

Garr grabbed his face. "Ahhh", he yelled.

"It's OK", Garin said. "We were going to separate when we landed anyway, so it shouldn't matter".


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

_"Hey Marc… catch"_

_The ball flew at him, faster than he could handle. He couldn't catch the ball, and it hit him in the face. He cried._

_Marc was five. He was playing outside with his brother, who he knew would die in a few months' time. He cried and cried, but not because of the pain – it had hurt when the ball hit him, but his tears were mostly tears of shame. He felt like he had let his brother down by not being able to catch the ball._

_He felt his brother's hand pat his head, and heard the comforting words coming from his mouth, but neither of those things were enough to stop the tears._

_Ten years later, his father was beating him. He felt the fist pound into his head – again and again and again. He raised his hands to try and block some of the blows, but he wasn't strong enough. He pleaded, and begged for his father to show mercy. And he cried tears of shame again._

_He wanted to be stronger, so that he could defend himself. He wanted to take his mother away from this demon of a man, and he wanted to take Elle away with them and live on a faraway planet – somewhere they could see the sun. But what he wanted most of all was to inflict as much suffering on his father as he was able to. He wanted to see _him_ begging and pleading and bleeding._

_He felt so angry._

_Five years later, and everything ends. He has seen his friends die, one after the other. He has seen countless worlds destroyed, and heard billions of people screaming in agony. And he cries tears of shame, for the last time. Because he knows that he could have prevented this, and he chose not to._

* * *

"We haven't had much time to talk in the last couple of days, have we?" Elle was sat by Marc's bed. He was still unconscious. Garin had helped her clean him up, and cover his wound over. He could have just been asleep; he looked so peaceful. "It's been kind of crazy". She had a cup of water in her hand and she'd wrapped herself up in a blanket that she'd found.

"Some men tried to rape me today", she said, her eyes watering. "Maybe they did; I can't be sure, they drugged me. Garin knows – he saved me – but I haven't told Jani. To be honest I've been trying not to think about it. Too busy worrying about whether we'll get away safely, and then about you.

"I'm frightened. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to leave the village. But this is all too much for me. And if I lose you I don't think I'll be able to survive on my own". Tears started to flow from her eyes. "And Sar… I haven't even thought about him today. What does that say about me? The whole reason we're doing this is meant to be to try and save him, right? But all I've been thinking about is how I'm going to keep myself safe".

She wiped her eyes and leaned over towards Marc's motionless body. She gently took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "I love you, Marc", she said, her voice cracking. "Please don't leave me". She leaned further forward and kissed him on the forehead.

She heard footsteps behind her; it was Jani. She put her hand gently on Elle's shoulder. "Get some sleep", she said gently. "I'll stay with him until you wake up".

Elle shook her head. She was tired but she didn't want to sleep; she was scared that she wouldn't be able to stop her mind thinking about the horrible things that had happened. Jani sat on the edge of Marc's bed and looked down at her, her arms folded across her chest.

"I overheard you talking", she said. "You should have told me what happened to you".

Elle looked up at her, meeting her gaze, suddenly angry. "It's none of your business", she snarled. "I didn't have to tell you, and you shouldn't be listening in to other people's conversations".

"He's unconscious", Jani said, her voice still calm. "It isn't a conversation when one person can't talk. Why are you getting so angry?"

Elle stood up. "I'm angry because you're leading us on. You don't care about us, do you? You just care about this damn _orb_".

Jani was still calm; infuriatingly so. "Even if that's true, does it make a difference?" she asked. "You're looking for your friend, I'm looking for the orb, and they're both in the same place".

"And what happens if we get there and it comes down to a choice between getting Sar and getting the orb?" Elle still stood, meeting Jani's gaze.

Jani smiled. She moved in closer to Elle – close enough that Elle could smell her sweat – and she whispered, "Then I'll kill you all". And then she waited.

Elle was disgusted with her. She'd suspected since they met that Jani cared more about getting the orb than anything else, but to hear her admit it so freely surprised her. Despite how much she wanted to be by Marc's side, Jani made no sign that she would leave; Elle couldn't stand being in the same room as her anymore. She stormed out, intending to tell Garin what had happened.

Jani stayed where she was – perched on the end of Marc's bed – for several moments after Elle had left. She knew that it was a mistake to say what she'd just said, at least this early in the game. But she couldn't stand the way that bitch looked at her; it was like she was Nerf shit off her shoe or something.

She knew that Elle would head straight to Garin, as though he could do anything about it. Marc was the one she needed; as long as she could convince him to stay with her, nothing else mattered. She needed to plant some seeds, sow a little distrust and jealousy. And she knew a way to do it, too.

She pressed some buttons on the medical console next to Marc, sat down in the same chair that Elle had been in and waited.

It took several minutes. At first all that happened was the slightest movement – an increase in Marc's respiratory rate, a twitching of his fingers. Then he started to moan quietly; the sound of someone waking from a bad dream.

Elle stood over him, and began stroking his hair. "Shhhh…" she breathed, barely making a sound. "It's alright… you're safe with me. Shhhh…"

Marc slowly opened his eyes. The glare of the lights meant that at first he could see nothing but a silhouette. A silhouette he assumed was Elle. He smiled at her, and rubbed his head up against her hand. It took several seconds before he could see her clearly.

"Jani?" he said, surprised that she was the one sat with him. "Where's Elle?"

Jani smiled, sweetly. It was a look that Marc hadn't seen on her face before, but he found himself liking it. "She's not here", she said, simply. "How are you doing?"

Marc realised that his stomach was numb. "I'm… fine, I guess", he said. "What happened?"

Jani moved away a little, sitting back down in the chair next to the bed. "You got shot. We got you onto the ship and then we took off. We're close to Dantooine now. We'll need to move you to a hospital when we get there".

Marc thought for a moment. It was a lot to take in; not only that he'd been shot, but that he was now far away from his home – the only place that he'd known his entire life. He felt… frightened? Maybe. Excited? Definitely. The sedative was slowing his mind down, but he was still fantasising about all the places he would visit, and the wonders that he would see.

"What is Dantooine like?" he asked.

"It's a simple place", Jani responded. "There's not a lot of technology there – a lot like your village, I imagine. The landscape is more tropical – a lot of trees and forests, and a lot of rain. It's… nice, I guess. Quiet".

"You've been there before?"

She nodded. "A few times. It's a good place to hide".

"You mean", Marc said, his sense of wonder starting to get the better of him, "you hid there on one of your Jedi adventures?"

Jani laughed loudly. "Yeah", she said, smiling. "On one of my 'Adventures'. You know, Marc, the Jedi aren't what you think they are".

"So… tell me about them. What are they?"

Jani sat back in her chair, and folded her arms across her chest. "The Jedi were a peace keeping force in the Old Republic. The Jedi Order was founded thousands of years ago. It grew and grew… almost too large, I suppose. They became so important to the Galaxy that they were too heavily relied on. Every mistake they made had Galaxy wide repercussions.

"And so it proved. When people relied so heavily on them to point out the threats, their inability to see the biggest one of all provided the opportunity for some really nasty men to take control. That's how the Empire first formed. Of course, there was a lot of other stuff going on, but it was mainly the fault of the Jedi.

"So the Galaxy spent… what? Thirty years under the tyranny of the Empire, and the Jedi were all but wiped out. Even after the Empire fell and the Jedi Order was restarted, they weren't the same, however hard they tried to be. They were living in a Galaxy that didn't trust the Force anymore. Not after what it had caused.

"Fast forward to today, and the Jedi Order spends more time arguing amongst itself than doing any peacekeeping. They've become a joke – desperately trying to maintain their pompous air of mystery, but in truth being too afraid to make a decision because they're scared that it won't be the right one".

As she was speaking, Jani's face had slowly filled with anger and bitterness. Now that she had finished it softened again. She looked at Marc, waiting for him to say something.

"And…" Marc hesitated. "What is the Force?"

Jani grunted. Then she closed her eyes, remembering something from her childhood. "The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together". When she'd finished speaking, she looked at Marc, her eyes narrowed.

Marc thought for a moment. "That doesn't really answer my question", he said.

Jani laughed loudly at this. "No", she said through the laughter. "No it doesn't. Well spotted. That's what all Jedi are told when they start out, but it doesn't even begin to explain what the Force is. An 'energy field'? What the hell does that mean?

"The truth is that we don't really understand what the Force is. We use euphemisms and riddles to hide that fact, because, if you think about it, it's really quite terrifying.

"What we do know is this; everything in the Universe contains these tiny creatures called midi-chlorians. They're present in everything. The Force is the manipulation of these creatures".

Marc listened intently. He knew that he was being told things that no one other than the Jedi was supposed to hear, and he felt privileged. But a question had formed in his head, and he needed to ask it.

"Has anyone ever tried to talk to these creatures?" he asked.

Jani was surprised at this. Marc's mind was heading in a different direction to most people. "We know that they're intelligent", she said, "but we can't communicate with them. They exist slightly out of phase to the rest of the Galaxy, making actual meaningful contact impossible. We suggest things to them, and they send echoes back to us. And that's it. That's the Force. The better a person is at sending suggestions to these creatures, the stronger they are with the Force. We don't know where it came from or how it works; we just know how to use it".

"So…" Marc started, and then he stopped speaking and looked down. He wasn't sure whether he was allowed to ask the question that he wanted to. Jani looked at him, smiling and waiting patiently. Eventually, he looked up at her again. "What about the Dark side?"

There was a pause – an uncomfortable pause that seemed to Marc to last far too long. Then, to Marc's relief, Jani laughed. "What exactly do you want to know?" she asked, still smiling. "Planning on tyrannising any Galaxies in the near future?"

Marc's eyes widened, prompting another burst of laughter from Jani. "N…no!" he stuttered, before taking a moment to recover himself. "I just… I'm just interested in knowing what it is… you know?"

"Well that's a dangerous thing to be interested in", she said, her voice suddenly serious. "You should be careful about who you ask those sorts of questions". She leaned forward in her chair and lowered her voice so that it was almost a whisper. "The Dark Side…" she said, and then stopped as though she didn't know how to begin. "There are two theories about it. The Jedi believe that the Force is like… a living thing, you know? And they believe that it has two aspects which are the polar opposite of each other. The Light Side is one of them – the side that works with living creatures to nurture and encourage life. The Dark Side is the other, which actively works to corrupt and destroy life wherever it finds it. So, in essence, this theory is saying that when a Jedi – or another Force user – becomes corrupted then it's because this Dark essence of the Force has been constantly eating away at them.

"That's one theory…

"The other theory is that the Force is just… a force. That it doesn't have different aspects to it – it's just a tool to be used in whichever way we see fit. In that case, the Dark side is simply people with evil intentions using the Force to cause as much damage as they can, and if a person 'turns to the Dark Side' it's just because… you know… they're a bastard. The Jedi don't much care for that second theory… I guess because the idea that anyone – regardless of morality or intention – can use the Force detracts from the idea of the Force as a religion".

"So which do you believe?" Marc asked quickly.

Instead of answering, Jani simply shrugged. Marc waited for an answer, but soon realised that there was not going to be one.

They were both still for a minute or so, Marc thinking about what he had just heard. Eventually, Jani slipped off the chair and moved closer to Marc. She put her hand on his chest and she felt him tense up.

"W… what are you doing?" he asked, his voice nervous. He tried to grab her hand and move it away, but he knew that he wanted her. She moved her face close to his and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss lasted for so long… he didn't want it to end. It was different to when he kissed Elle. She was always nervous and shy, and she always moved away too quickly. But Jani… she seemed to want it as much as him, and she was taking control. Instead of grabbing her hand and pushing it away he moved it nervously up her chest. He felt her lips smile when he did, and she moved her own hand down between his legs.

Marc let himself go.

* * *

"So what's your story?"

Garin and Garr were sat in the cockpit. They'd spent a while in almost complete silence, and Garin was becoming uncomfortable. He needed to fill it.

Garr spun in his chair to face Garin, smiling. He seemed to like smiling. "My story?" he repeated.

"Yeah", Garin leaned forward. "I want to know more about the man I'm sharing a ship with".

Garr thought for a moment. "OK. I was born on Corellia thirty standard years ago. My father was a smuggler. When I was six he started taking me with him on missions, though my mother protested. So I travelled a lot, learned a lot about the bad people in the Galaxy.

"He died when I was fourteen. I was left on my own, my mother had disowned me, and my father's crew dumped me on the nearest planet and left me there to fend for myself. The only place I could go was to an Alliance military base that was nearby. They sheltered me, gave me food and clothes. Eventually I joined up with the Army".

Garin was surprised by this, but remained silent. He couldn't imagine the man sitting before him in the military.

"I spent a long time with them, learning how to take care of myself", he continued. "Then the war broke out. I knew when I joined up that eventually they'd want me to go to war. That's what being in the army is all about. I served for five years after the war started. The things I saw… well, let's just say I don't like to think about them.

"One day it got too much. We were ordered to destroy a village that we suspected was housing Rebel soldiers. There were women there. And children. God I remember them running around, laughing and smiling. But we did it. We followed orders. Slaughtered everyone there. I deserted that same night, and I didn't look back".

Garin sighed. "That's the sort of thing the Alliance does", he said. "They act like they're the good guys, and they hide all of the atrocities they commit from the public".

Garr laughed bitterly. "And the Rebels are different?" he asked. "How many innocent people have you killed, or seen killed?" Garin looked guilty, but he didn't answer. "All wars are the same, and all sides are the same. It just depends on what they can justify to themselves.

"Anyway, after I deserted I joined up with a group of smugglers. They were decent people; they didn't murder people, they tried their best to only steal from corporations and not people themselves. They made me what I am, I suppose. When I thought I was ready I branched out on my own. Did pretty well for myself, too. And that's the story of me".

"What about this partner that you're meeting?" Garin asked, not yet satisfied.

"Batalla, she's called", Garr responded quickly. "She's a Tallan. If you haven't heard of them I'm not surprised. They're a pretty secretive species. She looks like a human, except her skin has a green tint, her hair is red and she's tall. Damn is she tall. Beautiful, too". Garr smiled as he thought about her.

"Sounds like you're more than partners", Garin said.

Garr looked back at him. "We are, I guess. She doesn't speak. She's a telepath, she communicates by sending images into my head. It's an amazing feeling when she does, it really is".

They both heard footsteps coming towards them, and turned to face the door. Elle appeared, suddenly, a flustered look on her face. "I need to tell you something", she said.

* * *

Marc and Jani lay in bed together, naked, breathing heavily. Marc's head was still spinning, and he was groggy from the sedative, but he knew that he'd greatly enjoyed what had just happened. And it had been his first time.

He looked down at Jani, who had rested her head on his chest. "Hey", he said gently. "Tell me about Gabe".

Jani looked up at him, suddenly angry. "You want to talk about him _now_?" she said, her voice outraged. "What's _wrong_ with you?" She stood up quickly and wrapped herself in her discarded clothes.

"I just…" Marc stammered. "I just want to know what kind of man he was, that's all. Why you'd choose me after him".

Jani sighed. Marc's terrified face softened hers; he looked like a puppy scared that it had upset its master, and she knew that she had him where she wanted him. "I don't know", she said. "Why would you choose me over Elle?"

_Elle_, he thought, suddenly guilty. _Have I betrayed her? Don't I love her?_

Jani walked back over to him and sat down. "You know", she said, "when we brought you onto the ship, both you and Garin were brought to the medical bay. Who do you suppose she sat with? I'll give you a clue; it wasn't you".

Marc sat there, shocked at what he was hearing. But Jani wasn't finished. "And when he was fixed up… well, she hasn't been down here since".

She kissed him once more on the lips, got dressed and then she left him alone with his thoughts.

_She's lying_, a voice in his head told him.

_Why would she lie?_ came a second. _What would she gain from it?_

_She lies with every breath_, came a third, the same unfamiliar voice that he had heard before. _Even when she thinks she's telling the truth. Can't you tell?_

A thought struck him then, like a shot to the ribs.

_Who are you?_ he asked the voice in his head. And even though all it was was a formless voice inside him, he could tell that it was grinning.


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

It was an hour later. Marc was back asleep, Jani had hidden herself away in the bowels of the ship, and the others were on the bridge. They'd listened to Elle's story. She'd left out the parts about her telling Marc she'd been attacked, but the rest gave Garin a lot to think about. He'd sat thinking quietly, his hands pressed together in front of him, as though in prayer, and his head rested on the tips of his fingers.

Should he stay with them? Jani was a loose cannon; he'd known her for a long time and was reluctant to believe that she meant what she had said. But he had also sensed something… odd about her ever since they ran into each other on Socorro. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but it had been nestled in the back of his mind for a while and Elle's story had brought it right to the forefront of his thoughts.

Still, he had time to think about his next move. They were approaching Dantooine, and they'd want to get going as soon as they could. But they needed to wait for Marc to heal; for some reason, he'd noticed, Jani seemed intent on keeping him close by. And they also needed to find another ship.

Garin had been to Dantooine many times before – most people associated with the Rebels had been at one time or another. It was a good place to hide out, and it was on the outskirts of the Galaxy – far from the eyes of the Alliance. As a result there were a decent number of Rebel stashes there. Garin, though, only knew about one ship they could use. That would be a problem if he decided to stick with his plan to separate from the others and head for the Rebel base on Tatooine.

He looked around. Garr was still sat in the pilot's chair – he hadn't moved from that spot since they left Socorro several hours ago. He wore a look of concentration as he attempted to negotiate with Danooine's landing patrol. It wasn't going smoothly, to say the least.

"Look", Garr said into the ships radio. "I'm not asking you to roll out the red carpets and put on a fucking song and dance. All I want is to land my damn ship. Is that so hard to understand?" He was on the brink of losing his temper completely. Garin smiled.

"I'm sorry, sir", came an infuriatingly polite female voice over the radio. "We have procedures to follow. If you are, as you claim, a travelling merchant then I'm sure you will be used to the Alliance's landing regulations".

Garr growled and cut the radio off. "Bitch", he said to himself. Then he seemed to remember that he wasn't alone, and he turned to Garin with an embarrassed smile. "She's right, though", he said. "I've spent more time waiting for permission to land than I have actually on the planets. It's ridiculous". He leaned over toward Garin. "In my book, the Alliance deserves overthrowing if only so that we can get rid of all this red tape that they've introduced. It just makes it ten times harder to get anything done".

Garin smiled but didn't respond, and Garr turned back to his console and made a second assault on the woman on the other end of the radio.

Garin looked behind him at Elle, who was sat in silence. She had been sat in silence ever since she'd finished her story about Jani, and he suspected that she was angry that he hadn't marched straight up to her and confronted her. What Elle didn't understand is that, however much it might seem otherwise sometimes, Jani was a Jedi. A Jedi who, if Elle was to be believed, was flirting heavily with the Dark Side. And that made her extremely dangerous. If he did decide to confront her alone then he would be taking a big risk, which he was unwilling to do without at least coming up with a plan for the worst case scenario.

And so he continued to contemplate in silence.

* * *

Jani, meanwhile, was feeling good. She had manoeuvred herself into the exact position that she wanted to be in; Marc, the boy with the power to control the orb, was smitten with her. She believed that he would do whatever she told him to. The doubt that she'd planted in his mind about Elle, she knew, was festering there, and would cause a rift to develop between them; even if he didn't fully believe what she had told him, it had been enough for him to question it.

In fact… the only thing she now had to worry about was Garin. No doubt Elle had gone running straight to him after their… disagreement. Before it was enough that she had convinced him to leave them and return to the Rebels, as Jani would have reached their destination long before Garin and the Rebels could reach them. But now that Marc was injured she would have to wait on Dantooine for longer than she wanted. If Garin was allowed to tell the Rebels where they were going before she had left Dantooine then they could interfere with her plans.

A voice suddenly came out over the ships speakers. It was Garr's voice. "_Well_", he said, "_after over an hour of waiting, we've finally been given permission to land. So we're, uh, landing now. Hold on to your asses_".

Garin would have to die, she decided.

* * *

Dantooine was a forest planet. The trees were old… some had grown to hundreds of feet tall, and they were densely packed together. What towns there were had to be built around the forest, as it was often too arduous a task to demolish the trees. The thickness of the forests made it easy to hide, and the tall trees made a position easier to defend. This made it appealing not only to the Rebels, who regularly visited this place, but also all the scum in the Galaxy who came here to lay low.

It was this sort of scum who first greeted Jani as she exited the ship. She was the first to depart, suggesting that she scout the area before they try to move Marc. Almost as soon as she had reached the bottom of the ramp they were on her, a blaster pushed in her face and hands groping her pockets. Though initially surprised, she calmed herself quickly and allowed them to rummage around. They were shouting – "Give us your credits, bitch" – but Jani closed her mind off to their voices and waited for her opportunity.

When it came, she moved fast. So fast that her attackers were dead before they knew she was fighting back. Her light-sabre erupted with blue flame, and sliced the three men in half.

Stunned bystanders looked on, but none of them approached her as she made her way out of the landing zone and followed the directions to the hospital she had been given.

This town was the capital of Dantooine, but after the surprising metropolis of Hathrass it seemed unimpressive. The buildings were old, and wooden. Even the largest of them would barely hold a hundred people. The streets were almost empty, and the run down roads were evidence of the devastation of the recession. The people here seemed as though they had no hope. Jani felt pity for them, but never considered trying to help.

The hospital was small; more like a simple clinic. She pushed the front doors open and entered a cramped waiting area, full of people coughing or crying. She immediately felt as though she needed to get out of there, but she forced herself to approach the reception.

"Hello", the woman behind the desk said, and then she waited for Jani to speak.

"I have a friend who has a severe blaster wound to his stomach", she said, matter-of-factly. "Are you equipped to deal with something like that?"

An angry look flashed over the woman's face, as though the resented the implication that they were a sub-standard hospital, but it vanished as quickly as it arrived. "Of course", she said with a smile. "I'll inform the doctors right away".

Jani smiled, though all she wanted was to leave. "I'll bring him here as soon as I can", she said, and then she left.

* * *

Garin had witnessed Jani's decimation of her attackers, having watched her disembark the ship. Though he didn't disapprove of her fighting back, it served as a further reminder that if he moved against her she would certainly outclass him in combat. He sat in the medical bay with Marc, who was unconscious again. His wound had gotten worse since the last time Garin had been here, as though something had been putting additional strain on it. He didn't have time to worry about that now. He needed to reach his ship and make sure it was still fully functional, and he wanted to do it before Jani returned. He wasn't going to leave Elle and Marc alone with her if he could help it.

"What are you going to do?" a voice said from behind him. Elle's voice. He turned to face her.

"I have a ship hidden close by", he said calmly. "I'm going to go and check it over… make sure it's still working. If we need to we can abandon Jani here and the three of us can head for the Rebel base together".

The look on Elle's face suggested that she was less than satisfied with this plan. "What about Sar?" she asked. "Why is everyone forgetting about him? We're on a _rescue mission_. I can't abandon him and hide with the Rebels".

Garin stood up and moved closer to her. He looked at her scrunched up, determined face and smile. This girl, he thought, had metal. "I know", he said softly. "We won't abandon him. But you're forgetting that there is a Dark Jedi with him. If we go after him alone we have the same problem we have with Jani. He would most likely kill us all, and we would have delivered Marc to him – the person that he was looking for in the first place. We need backup".

With that, he put his hand on her shoulder and slowly walked away. He would head to his ship quickly and get back before Jani.

* * *

Garr was nervous. He hadn't told the others the details of his rendezvous with his partner because he expected her to be here when they landed. They were going to say their goodbyes and take off, leaving Garin, Elle and Jani to deal with their own problems.

But Batalla was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't even made contact with him, which is the least he would have expected her to do. So he was worried. Either she had been caught or, worse, killed trying to acquire the information they both needed.

What should he do? They needed the ship as much as they needed the information, so he couldn't risk leaving it in the hands of the others. Hell, if Elle was to be believed they had a psychotic Jedi on board.

Still… Garin had gone, presumably to arrange transport for him and his friends, and Jani was looking around the city. He felt safer with those two gone. Marc was unconscious, and Elle… well, Garr didn't think that Elle would pose much of a threat if things went bad.

He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. He couldn't leave the ship alone with them, but he was desperate to find out what had happened to his partner.

The Rebel stash was just outside of the town, to the east. There the forest was especially dense, trees often growing so close together that there was not even enough space between them for a person to fit through. So dense that it was next to impossible to find your way through the maze of branches. Impossible, that is, unless you already knew the way.

At the centre of this crowd of trees there was a clearing, painstakingly fashioned by the Rebels over a decade ago, when the war had just turned more violent. They knew then that every hiding place they could find would give them an advantage. A large warehouse had been erected in this opening, which had an encrypted entrance. The roof of this building had been fashioned to look like densely packed tree-tops, to disguise it from passing ships. Of course, this wouldn't stand up to close inspection; it relied on nobody having any reason to look closely at this particular part of the forest.

Garin had been here before, but even he was surprised at how difficult it was to navigate his way through the trees. It had taken him longer than he'd expected. Too long. If he didn't hurry there was no chance of him making it back to the others before Jani did.

He reached the door. It looked as though it hadn't been used in years, which was a good sign; everything he'd left the last time he'd visited would hopefully still be here. He cleared the dirt from the console to the right of the door and input the code. The door creaked and moaned, and slowly opened. It got about half-way before it screeched and stopped; the long years, it seemed, had not been kind to this place.

Still, Garin thought as he squeezed his way through the gap, it had opened enough for him to enter. That was one less thing to worry about. The corridor beyond the door was dark save for the trickle of light that was coming through the same gap that Garin had come through. As he moved shadows danced against the wall, and more than once he was convinced that he wasn't alone. It was just his mind playing tricks on him.

The walls were covered in moss, almost completely covering the grey paint. In several places branches had forced their way through the roof and down through the ceiling, and Garin had to tip-toe his way around the fallen tiles. About twenty yards in he found himself blocked off; the ceiling had completely collapsed, and there was no other way past.

_Damn_, he thought. _More delays_. Still, there was no other way around, so he started to dig his way through.


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The beeping had started several minutes ago. It came from a small device that Garr had concealed in his jacket. When it started his heart had jumped, but on the surface he was still calm. He slowly put his hand into his jacket, pulled the device out and placed in on the front on the cockpit. Then he simply stared at it.

The device itself was nothing. A sphere, maybe three inches in diameter, with a flashing light at the centre; it made a beep in synch with the light. It was a signal from Batalla. It meant that she was on her way, but that she couldn't afford to stop and use the radio to contact him. Which meant that she was in trouble.

He trusted her. She knew where he was, and she'd get to him. His job now, he realised, was to make sure they were ready for a quick escape. Which meant getting rid of his _passengers_.

He made his way down to the medical bay, where Elle had been sat since Jani had left. While he was walking he contemplated how he should handle this. Should he try and play on Marc's condition, get Elle to take him to the hospital herself? Or should he just grab them both and hurl them out of the ship?

When he entered Elle was sat with her back to him. He took a deep breath; though he tried to be tough, he really hated when he needed to hurt people. He walked up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder, not gently but not so tight that it would hurt. To his surprise, she leaned her head to the side and rubbed it up against his hand. That was when he noticed she was crying.

Despite himself, he was concerned. He sat down on Marc's bed opposite her and looked at her face. Her eyes were red with the tears. "He'll be OK", he said, gently. "You and Jani will get him to the hospital and then they'll take good care of him".

She looked up at him. "It's…" she started, but her voice was cracked. She cleared her throat and started again. "It's not that", she said. "Well, it _is_ that, but there's also so much else".

"Tell me", Garr said.

"I just feel so _lost_". She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. "I don't know where I am. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm relying on people that I don't know; Garin, Jani, _you_. At least one of you might be crazy. I can't take it anymore. If Marc dies then how will I survive? Jani doesn't care about me, she's just after Marc". She had started to cry harder now, and Garr knew that he wouldn't be able to throw her off his ship alone. He decided that he would tell her the truth.

He swallowed. "I've got more bad news", he said. "You know the partner that I'm meeting here?" Elle nodded. "Well I've just heard from her. She'd on her way but she's not alone. I imagine that trouble is following close behind".

Elle sniffed. "So what do we do?" she asked calmly. At first Garr was surprised at how little reaction she was showing, but he realised that she had given up being surprised about bad news.

"As soon as Jani gets back you two will need to move Marc away from here", he told her. "It's too dangerous to stay. Garin has gone to find his ship, and you can meet up with him later at the hospital, but it's just too dangerous to stay on this ship any longer".

Elle nodded and Garr was satisfied that she understood what was happening. He squeezed her shoulder once more and then made his way back to the cockpit. All he could do now was wait. One thing he hadn't told Elle was that there was no telling whether Jani would get back before Batalla got there, and if she didn't there was no way Elle would be able to get off the ship. They'd have to make a run for it together.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone walking up the boarding ramp; the sound of heavy footsteps on metal. For a moment he thought that it was Batalla, and he thought about running to greet her. But almost as soon as he thought it he realised that it couldn't be her; she was so graceful on her feet, he usually had to strain his ears to hear her footsteps.

It was Jani, back from the town. She told him about the hospital, and that they should get Marc there soon. But Garr knew it was already too late; his enemies would be too close, and would fire at anyone trying to leave. He wouldn't have been surprised if they already had people stationed around the ship, who had seen Jani board. He mumbled something to her, and then continued to the cockpit.

He knew what his next move would be.

* * *

It had taken Garin far too long to dig his way through, and he now realised that there was no chance of him making it back to the Raven before Jani. Still, the ship that he'd been searching for was here, and it looked as though it was still intact.

It was an old GR-75 medium transport, about 9 meters from front to back. Sheer white, save for the grime and moss that had grown over it in the years since it had last been used. This one dated back to the _Clone Wars_ over two hundred years ago; it would ferry supplies to and from Republic bases. The history around it was one of the reasons Garin loved it so much; when he'd salvaged it there were still old logs from crew members who had served on it decades previously, and he had spent many hours simply listening to their daily lives. It was about twice the size of the Raven, and it was slower and a lot less manoeuvrable. Still, it would get them from A to B if they needed it to. That is, assuming it was still functional.

Before Garin entered the ship he moved to the far side of the hangar, to a series of control panels. They had been covered over with a large, dirty cloth, which he dragged away. They were the controls to open the roof. If they were broken then it wouldn't matter if the ship was functional or not; they wouldn't be able to take off. He flipped several switches, but there was no response.

"Shit", he muttered to himself. He checked the wiring in the back of the console, but as far as he could see it was all in place. That meant it had to be a problem with the power supply.

He headed for the generators.

* * *

Blaster fire whizzed past her head, so close that she could feel their heat. She ran as fast as her long legs would carry her, but they were still gaining. At this rate she wouldn't make it to the landing zone before they caught up to her.

She ducked into a side alley and waited. They will have seen her, she knew, but she had to change tactics. Running was not going to work; she had to start fighting back.

One of the men chasing her shot around the corner without thinking, heading straight for her. She pulled out the dagger that she kept strapped to her thigh and held it out towards him. The man's momentum carried him into the blade, and it slid into his heart. She looked into his eyes and she sensed his mind die. The coldness that she felt was indescribable, a terrifying feeling that she always dreaded. Each time she took a life she felt this coldness, and it shot straight through to her soul.

Batalla was a telepath. She could touch the minds of almost all other people, though some, like the Jedi, were trained to block telepaths out. She always tried to avoid reading a mind unless the person had given permission, or if she needed to to achieve her goals. But she did not have complete control over it; often she would slip into a person's mind without realising it, and it seemed to happen every time someone around her died.

The landing bay was a few hundred feet away, to the west, but she was now headed south. She hoped that she would be able to lose her pursuers in the busy side-streets. She could sense them behind her, the outrage in their minds. She could see the images in their heads; how they wished that they could kill her, torture her. She shook her head as she ran; this was no time to be dwelling on what other people were thinking. She needed to keep her wits about her.

The alley she was in was narrow, maybe four feet wide, and the sides were lined with crates or junk. She tripped over more than once, and at every opportunity she had she would knock the things over to try and slow down the people chasing her.

She ducked into a kitchen, heading west again. The cooks in there were shocked to see her appear suddenly, but before they could react she had already made her way through the kitchen and into the dining area of the restaurant. She pushed her way between the diners and out of the front entrance. The road in front of her was clear, and she dashed across.

But she stopped shortly afterward. The space between her and the landing zone was open space; nowhere to hide from the weapons that would surely be fired at her. She looked behind her; she couldn't see anyone there, or sense anyone following her. Perhaps she _had_ managed to lose them.

A hand suddenly clasped around her mouth and she was dragged backwards. A gun barrel was shoved in her face, and she barely had time to register what was happening before she was struck hard across the face. She was dazed but still conscious, and she could hear them shouting at her. "Where is the disc, bitch?" "We're gonna cut you open and drain you dry". Even though she was terrified, and most likely about to die, she couldn't help but smile inside at the stupidity of what some people will say.

One of them spoke into a radio. "We've got her", he said. "We'll have the disc in no time", he said. "The ship must be here", he said. "She was headed for the landing zone".

There was a response, but Batalla was too dazed to make it out. She was close to fainting; her vision was blurring and she was drowsy. She spat blood onto the ground below her and shook her head violently to try and snap herself out of it. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the rumbling, or the sound of engines coming towards them, or the sound of the men shouting next to her.

She looked round. It was the Raven, hovering above them – perhaps twenty feet off the ground. It was the first time she had seen the ship, and even though there was blood dripping down her face and she was in so much pain she still managed to admire how beautiful it looked; sheer black, it hovered above them quietly, like a predator waiting for its prey to make a move.

A voice boomed out from the ships speakers. It was Garr's voice. "Put down your weapons, assholes", he said. The sound surrounded them, and reluctantly the men did as they were told. "Batalla, get your ass up here now".

With that, the ship lowered slowly until it was just a few feet above their heads, and the boarding ramp descended. She stood, swaying a little; she was still dazed. She walked towards the ramp and clambered aboard. As she made her way up the ramp both it and the ship began to rise.

Garr looked down at the men; they were all screaming into their communicators to some unseen colleague. He knew that they would be chasing them soon.


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"What the fuck do we do now?"

Jani's question reverberated around the cockpit. It was less than a minute since Batalla had boarded, and Elle had managed to help her get to the cockpit. Now they all stood there, trying to figure out what they were going to do.

"Anyone?" Jani was clearly angry. "Did you forget what the plan was? We were meant to be getting off this ship and getting Marc to the hospital".

"Look", Garr said, anger in his voice. "My partner was in trouble, and I made a decision that was in her best interests. To be frank, I don't give a shit about what your plans were". Jani's eyes flared at this, and she moved toward Garr, her hand moving almost instinctively to the light-sabre at her side. She had barely taken two steps when she heard the sound of a blaster pistol charging. She glanced to the side and saw Batalla pointing a weapon directly at her. One glance in her eyes was enough to tell Jani that she wouldn't hesitate to kill her.

Elle, who had been almost forgotten about until then, spoke. "Calm down, all of you!" she said, trying to fill her small, high pitched voice with all the authority that she could muster. It seemed to work; Jani backed off slowly, and Batalla lowered her blaster equally slowly.

"OK", Elle continued. "Can we land somewhere and get off with Marc?"

Both Garr and Jani shook their heads, but it was Garr who spoke. "The people who were chasing Batalla won't stop now", he said. "They'll have ships of their own and they'll be coming after us as we speak. Landing will take too long".

"Plus", Jani said. "I sensed them watching me when I boarded earlier. They know what I look like, and they know that I shared a ship with this piece of crap". At that, Garr smiled at her.

"Wait", Elle said, realisation hitting her. "What about Garin?" Garr looked at his feet.

"He's on his own", Jani said. "Hell, last I heard he was planning on leaving anyway. Going off to join his Rebel friends. At least he's not caught up in the same shit that we are".

Elle felt a chill run through her. She was on her own, she realised. On her own with Jani, a woman who had already threatened to kill her. What was she going to do? She felt scared.

But she didn't have time to dwell on it. The ship suddenly shook violently, and a loud bang almost deafened her. She was thrown sideways and hit her head on the corner of one of the consoles. She must have blacked out for a moment; when she came round, she was looking up into the smiling face of Batalla. She lifted her up with a strength that defied her frame, and put her down gently in one of the chairs. Then she quickly strapped her down and moved away.

Elle sat in her chair staring at Batalla. She thought that she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her skin looked as smooth as silk, and her eyes engulfed you when if you looked into them. And she was tall – God, she was tall. She stood a clear foot above Garin, who was quite tall himself. She had to hunch down so that she didn't bang her head on the roof of the ship. Her hair was black and shining, tied behind her and allowed to hang down to her waist. She moved gracefully, like a dancer might, but her eyes darted from side to side as though she was always ready to move.

Batalla looked back at Elle and caught her staring. Elle looked down, embarrassed, but Batalla only smiled and looked back towards Garr.

"Damn", Garr growled. "Those bastards are quick. B, get to the weapons bay. I'll try and lose them on our way out of the atmosphere". Batalla nodded and hurried away. Jani followed after her. Garr turned his attention back to the control panel in front of him, mumbling away to himself. Elle simply watched him, feeling useless.

The Raven, which had been slowly making its way out of the atmosphere to avoid being noticed by the landing authorities, accelerated suddenly. It was followed by three small fighters; variations on the TIE fighters which had been used for centuries. The bright light of their weapons fire lit up the night sky. Where their weapons hit the Raven, shards of metal and fire flew off the hull, and the group inside the ship were hurled from one side to the other.

The fighters were quicker and more manoeuvrable than the Raven, but they were not equipped with hyperdrive engines. Garr knew that if they could get clear of the planet's atmosphere without sustaining any damage to their engines then they would be able to outrun their attackers. But, he thought as the ship was once again rocked by weapons fire, he wasn't sure they'd make it that far.

Batalla and Jani, meanwhile, had made their way down to the weapons platforms. There was one on either side of the ship. They were designed like cockpits; they would, on command, strut out of the ship a clear ten feet, allowing the person inside to rotate in almost any direction they wanted, increasing their firing circle. When not firing, they would retreat back inside the ship so as not to present an easy target for an enemy. This constant movement would put an unknown amount of strain on the person inside, however; this design was not used frequently.

Still, it gave them another advantage over their attackers, who were limited in their range of fire and also had lighter armour. If Jani or Batalla could get one clear hit on the attacking ships then the chances were that it would destroy it outright.

As they both opened fire the blackness of space was lit up, like a night sky suddenly filling with fireworks. The fighters danced around the Raven like ballerinas, dodging between the blasts of energy. Their own weapons fire would occasionally rip into the Raven, making blasts of fire rise out briefly, before the lack of oxygen outside the ship drowned it out.

Jani and Batalla fired constantly, spinning and turning every way they could to try and hit their enemies, but not one shot made contact. The frustration of constantly missing her target began to anger Jani, who, eventually, screamed in frustration and violently tore herself out of her seat. She stormed into the cockpit.

"Get us the hell out of here!" she shouted at Garr. They had cleared Dantooine's atmosphere several minutes ago, and they should have been able to engage their hyperdrive by now.

Garr looked at her, a guilty look on his face. "The engine has been damaged", he said, slowly.

Jani forced herself to stay calm. "How badly?" she said, through gritted teeth.

Garr leaned back in his chair, apparently oblivious to the battle still raging outside. "We can engage the drive", he said. "But there's no telling what will happen when we do. It might work, or it might rip us to shreds". He paused then, thinking. "What do you think?" he asked eventually. "Should we hit the switch?"

Jani hesitated. She wanted to get away from these ships and continue with the mission she had given herself. But she couldn't decide if instant death from a failed hyperdrive engine was preferable to the possibility of being destroyed by the fighters outside.

"Do it", a small voice said from behind them. They both turned. It was Elle, who they had forgotten was there. She was wearing the determined look that she sometimes had, as though she would accept no other outcome. Jani and Garr turned back to each other, and Jani nodded.

Garr turned away, smiling. "Fuck it", he said. "Lived too damn long anyway". He leaned forward and turned on his radio. "B", he said into it. "Get up here and strap yourself in, honey. We're about to hit hyperdrive". He spent several moments hitting switches, the ship occasionally being shaken by a blast from one of the fighters. While he was doing so Batalla appeared in the cockpit, and her and Jani both strapped themselves into chairs.

When Garr had finished plotting a course he turned back to them and smiled widely, showing his yellow teeth. "Here we go", he said, and then he hit a switch in front of him.

* * *

Garin wasn't surprised to see the landing bay where he had last seen the Raven empty. He had half expected that Garr would leave as soon as his partner arrived. He was, however, surprised that neither Elle nor Jani had tried to contact him. Jani had been desperate to get Marc to hospital; her concern for him was one of the many things that confused him about her. He found it hard to believe that she would have allowed him to stay on the Raven, given that there were no other hospitals close-by, and also given Marc's extremely critical condition.

Still, he had gone straight to the hospital after realising that the Raven was gone but the woman behind the desk was adamant that Marc had not been brought in.

"I remember the woman", she said, smiling. Garin wondered if the smile was genuine or just something that she forced herself to wear at work. "She came in here a couple of hours ago, asking if we were equipped to deal with serious blaster injuries. I assured her that we were fully equipped with the best in medical equipment, and she said that she would bring the young gentleman who had been injured straight here. But that was the last I saw of her".

Garin thought for a moment. It sounded like Jani fully intended to bring Marc here, which meant that something happened which prevented her from doing so. That worried him. If he had to guess, he'd say that they were attacked and had to take off to try and escape, but what had happened afterwards? Had they escaped, or had they been destroyed?

He knew that there was no way for him to find out now; they had not answered his radio messages, despite him trying several times. Either they were out of range or they weren't there anymore.

He smiled, thanked the woman behind the hospital reception and left.

The ship had checked out fine. After he had located the generator controls he had realised that it was simply a loose cable that was the problem with the roof controls. Now he had a decision to make; should he head to rendezvous with the Rebel council, to inform them of the new threats he had discovered? Or should he head straight to the place that Jani had told him about, where the Dark Jedi had taken Marc and Elle's friend, and where – if Jani was to be believed – a potentially Galaxy-threatening device was hidden?

He contemplated his choices as he headed back to the Rebel stash. By the time he had made his way back through the maze of trees surrounding it, he had made his decision. He knew that if he had to face a Jedi – especially a Dark Jedi – he would lose. His only chance was to get as much backup as he could, and overpower him with superior numbers. He would head to Tatooine, where the nearest Rebel base was, and try to convince the council of this new threat.

* * *

"Get those damn fires out now!"

The Raven was in bad shape. The Hyperspace Drive had taken them away from their attackers, but the burst had only lasted a few seconds, leaving them in the middle of nowhere, and the damage to the ship meant that the strain of accelerating almost tore the ship apart. Fires were raging all over the ship, and some parts had even been torn off completely.

Elle had been especially traumatised by the jump; her safety harness had come loose, and she had been thrown across the cockpit against a wall. Now she felt as though she had been punched repeatedly in the ribs, and each time she tried to stand she felt a pain shoot up from her ribs to her neck. Now she simply sat there, tears slowly streaming down her face. She was approaching hysteria.

Garr's frantic screaming to douse the flames did not help matters. While Elle found him frightening, Jani simply wondered whether the job would go quicker if he actually stopped shouting and helped her and Batalla fight the fires. There didn't appear to be any fire-fighting equipment on board, so they were using sheets doused in water to try and quell the flames. It seemed to be working, slowly; the flames were dying down, and no new ones were starting.

Elle watched this, calming down slowly. She took stock of what was happening; the fires were dying down, and they were all alive. So what was causing the feeling of dread that was stuck there in her stomach?

Then she realised what it was. Marc.

She tried once more to stand, and though the pain was close to unbearable she finally managed to drag herself to her feet. She stumbled through the cockpit door and along the corridor, using the walls to keep herself upright. As she passed Jani she heard her speak. "Where are you going? Can't you help?" she said.

Elle mumbled a response. Jani didn't catch most of it, but the one word she did recognise was "Marc". She suddenly realised that she, too, had forgotten about him. He hadn't been strapped down in his bed; the jolt as they entered hyperspace must have thrown him across the room. And given that he was already badly injured…

_Shit_, she thought. _He'd better not be dead. Not after all I've been through getting him this far._

A fire erupted near her face, and she remembered what she was doing. She would have to check on Marc after she had gotten the ship under control.

Elle stumbled through the door to the medical bay. She knew how violently the ship had been thrown from side to side, but she was still shocked at how much damage had been done to this room. Equipment had been thrown off the walls, and the ceiling had collapsed in places. The floor was covered in furniture and equipment. Worst of all, she could see no sign of Marc; he must have been buried underneath it all.

"Marc!" She called his name desperately as she began to claw her way through the rubble. There was no response, although she didn't expect one. She worked her way along the ground, hurling objects behind her as she moved. Eventually, when she had reached the far corner of the room, she unearthed a foot and an ankle. Tremendous relief surged through her. "Marc", she called again as she moved to lift the remainder of the rubble off him.

The relief that she had felt drained away quickly as she lifted the next piece of fallen furniture from him. It revealed his upper legs and his stomach, and they were covered in blood. She couldn't quite tell through the blood whether it was the wound that was already there that had opened or if, in their frantic escape, another one had been made, but she knew that it looked bad. He wasn't moving.

She quickly cleared the rest of the rubble from on top of him. His nose was bloody and he was unconscious, but other than the wound in his stomach he looked unhurt. She tried to lift him, to move him into a more comfortable position, but she couldn't on her own.

"Help!" she screamed. "HELP ME!"

She began to cry uncontrollably. She was suddenly afraid that there was no one there to hear her, that they had abandoned ship without telling her. It was a crazy thought, she knew, but it was there none-the-less. When Jani's face appeared in the doorway she felt uncontrollable joy; she wasn't alone.

Jani's eyes widened when she saw the state that Marc was in. She rushed forward, pushing Elle aside to get to him. Instead of feeling angry about this as she normally might have, Elle felt relieved that someone else was taking responsibility for taking care of Marc. She felt out of her depth; like she was drowning in all the horrible things that she was caught up in.

And now Marc was dying, and she didn't know what to do.


	27. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Almost an hour later, Marc had been moved into one of the crew quarters. There was no medical equipment left undamaged, so all Jani could do was to bandage the wound.

Elle stayed by his side. Jani, Batalla and Garr had gathered back in the cockpit; the fires had been put out, and that was practically the only place on the ship that hadn't been ruined.

Jani was yelling again. And, yet again, Garr was the focus of her anger. With Marc stabilised – or, in as stable a condition as they could get him without the right medical skills or equipment – her focus had shifted to deciding who was to blame. And the answer was clear to her.

"That bitch nearly got us all killed!" she screamed, indicating to Batalla.

"Fuck you!" Garr screamed back at her. "You didn't have to come back on board; you could have stayed on Dantooine". The pair were squared up to each other, fire in both their eyes. Though Batalla had only been around Jani for a short time, and in that time they had barely had time to look at each other, she could tell that he was very protective of her. So insulting her was the quickest way to get him pissed.

"Could I?" Jani said. "Really? From what I remember we were in the air before you bothered to mention what was happening. I mean, who were those people chasing us? Could you at least tell me that?"

Garr backed away then, and his lips pressed tightly together. He glanced at Batalla, who looked back at him nervously. Then he sighed. "They were from the _K'Toth _crime syndicate", he finally admitted. He moved further away and leant against the front console, his arms folded. "The job we were hired for was actually two jobs. The first was to steal this ship, which had long been held by the _K'Toth_". He paused then, as though trying to find the right words.

"See, this ship is very special. More than you could possibly know. The data contained in its memory banks lists every single _K'Toth_ hideout, every warehouse, even every stash that someone might have buried, because this ship belonged to the heads of the syndicate. Nothing happened without it passing through here, and everything that did pass through was logged and stored. And we were hired to steal it".

"So why didn't you just download the data? Why steal the whole ship?" Jani wasn't interested in the story, but she asked none the less.

Garr smiled back at her. "Because it was encrypted. We couldn't even copy the data without passing through dozens of layers of computer security, so we figured it would be easier to just steal the ship. Then we could have all the time we needed to decrypt the information".

"Hang on". There was something bugging Jani about the story she was being told. "How did the ship end up in Alliance hands? Weren't those Alliance soldiers we killed on Socorro?"

"They were", Garr replied. "It was actually quite a bold move by the Alliance". He leaned forward, smiling. "They planted some of their soldiers on the inside; let the _K'Toth_ believe that they were selling their services and their information. When they got close enough, they snatched the ship and stored it on Socorro.

"They were after it for the same reason as… our employers. Money. The K'Toth are just about the richest crime syndicate in the Galaxy. I mean, they have billions… maybe trillions of credits stashed away in dozens of locations around the Galaxy, and the Alliance wanted that money to help fund their war effort".

"OK", Jani said. "That makes sense. You said there were two parts to your job. What was the other?"

Garr looked across at Batalla. "My partner here stole the algorithms to decrypt the information on this ship. Now we have both pieces we can access the information whenever we want". He sniffed. "Assuming, of course, that the memory banks are still intact. Crap, they'd better be".

Jani grunted with laughter. "Well", she said. "Fascinating as that story was, it still doesn't change the fact that you and your friend here have seriously fucked me over. I don't suppose it occurred to you to think about the mission that I'm on?"

Batalla stood, suddenly, and caught the attention of Garr. Her eyes were wide in shock. He looked down, and saw that, while he and Jani had been talking, a shadow had slowly crept across the cockpit. He looked at Jani, who was now looking at something behind him. He turned slowly. "Shit", he sighed.

The cockpit window was filled completely with a ship. It was a ship that they all recognised, Jani especially. It was the _Endor_.

Jani rushed forward to the front of the cockpit and looked up out of the front screen. As she did so, a voice echoed over the ship's radio. "_Attention scum of the Galaxy_", the voice said. Jani recognised the pompous tones immediately; it was the Admiral that she and Gabe had encountered when they had boarded the _Endor_. "_We are not interested in dragging you away to prison for any of the heinous crimes that you have no doubt committed. We are only interested in your passengers. Give them to us and we will allow you to leave_".

Jani was only half listening to the words. If she had been paying more attention she might have reacted quicker. As it was, though, she heard the charging blaster far too late, and she felt the muzzle of a gun press against the back of her head. _Damn_, she thought, and cursed herself for being so slow. Her eyes glanced to the side; Garr was still sat in the pilot's chair, looking at her with an almost apologetic expression, which meant that there was only one person who could be holding the gun to her head.

"This is the second time you've pointed that gun at me", Jani said calmly. She turned around to face Batalla. "I promise that it will be the last". Batalla's expression did not change; her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was closed tightly. She was obviously ready for any sudden movement, and Jani didn't believe that she would be able to disarm her before she fired.

The three remained in silence for several seconds, eyeing up the various scenarios that could play out from here. Jani didn't see any way out other than fighting; her hand, which had been hanging loosely at her side, gripped her light sabre as she prepared to move. In response Batalla's grip tightened on her blaster and she moved forward slightly, as though to warn Jani against making any moves.

Jani figured her chances were about fifty-fifty, at best. She braced herself.

"_I repeat, hand over your passengers or I will blow you into very small pieces_", the voice came again over the radio, shattering the tension that had built up. Jani's grip relaxed as she realised that she would be best served waiting to see what Garr and Batalla would do, and Batalla's grip did likewise.

"_Am I using words that are too complicated or something_?"

Garr, who up until then had been deathly still and silent, growled in frustration, leaned over to the radio and switched it to transmit. "Look, you fucker", he yelled into the microphone. "We heard you the first time. Give us a minute".

"_You have one minute_", the voice said, and Garr switched the radio off. Then he turned back to face Jani; her hand was still on her light-sabre, and Batalla still held a blaster to her head.

He smiled. "Is it me", he asked, "or is that guy a bit of a dick?"

Jani smiled thinly. "He's a lot of a dick", she replied. "So… what now?"

Garr took a deep breath. "Listen", he said softly. "That boy down in the crew quarters is dying. There's no doubt about that, right?" Jani nodded slightly. "Now, for whatever reason you seem to really want to avoid that. I don't know why, and I don't really care. What I do know is this; that Alliance ship will have highly trained doctors, and the best medical equipment there is. If he's got any chance of surviving I'll bet it's with them. So you have to ask yourself; is him surviving more important than avoiding capture by the Alliance?"

Jani didn't need to think about it; Marc was central to her plans, and if he died then everything she had been through would have been for nothing. She hesitated, though, not wanting to reveal to these people just how important Marc was.

She sighed. "I'll need guarantees that they will take care of him".

Garr leaned forward and switched the radio back on. "Hey, asshole", he said. "One of the passengers – a teenage boy – is badly injured. If I give them up to you will you make sure he's treated?"

There was a long pause; Jani suspected it was more to do with Garr's insult than the request. Eventually they received a reply. "_Of course_", the voice said, coldly. "_We need them all alive_".

Garr looked back at Jani. She really hated the thought of giving herself up, especially to him, but she didn't really have any choice. She nodded to him. Garr turned back to the radio. "Give us five minutes", he said. "We'll put them in an escape pod and you can pick them up. I don't want any of you on my ship".

This time the response was almost instant. "_Agreed_", it said. Jani found herself wondering exactly how much the Alliance knew; about Marc, and about the orb. Still, she knew that Garr was right about them giving Marc the best chance of surviving.

Batalla lowered her weapon, and Jani turned away from Garr and headed down to the crew quarters to get Marc ready to move. Garr and Batalla looked at each other; he could see in her eyes that she wasn't happy about what was happening. She'd always been softer than him. He'd no doubt she would have sooner tried to fight her way out than sacrifice someone else.

But she didn't _know_ Jani like he did. She hadn't seen the craziness that sometimes filled her eyes, or the ruthlessness with which she cut down her enemies. In truth, he would be glad to see the back of her.

* * *

Elle had fallen asleep, her head resting on the side of the bed that they'd moved Marc to. She couldn't remember the last time she'd really slept; it must have been in the truck on the way to Hathrass, days ago. She'd been frightened of the dreams that she might have; would she dream of the death she saw in the village? Or of being raped? The dreams she did have were unexpected. She dreamed of _home_; of the market square, of the smiling people, the friendly conversations, and of how _safe_ she had felt. She'd give anything to feel that way again, and she would give anything to have made a different choice when she had decided to leave.

She dreamed of being alone in her home in the village, where she would spend her days painting or sculpting. In her dream she was painting; she stood before a blank canvas. She could not find a paint brush, and so she used her hand; she dipped it in the paint that was by her side and rubbed her hand across the canvas. Where her hand touched a picture began to form. At first she didn't realise what it was; it looked like a portrait of someone, but she couldn't tell who. As she rubbed her hand across the canvas more of the picture was revealed, and she realised that the picture was of Marc. Not the Marc she knew though; his face was contorted with rage. His hand was stretched out towards her.

She heard a noise then; quiet at first, but growing louder. It sounded like a scream; screeching, blood curdling. As it grew louder she realised that it was coming from the painting; from the twisted Marc that was in front of her. And to her horror, the picture started to move; his hand moved towards her, the surface of the canvas pushing outwards. As Jani looked at Marc's eyes she knew that he meant to kill her, but she could not move. His hand suddenly burst through the canvas and shot out towards her.

The Marc was still screaming, but now rather than a scream of anger it was a scream of triumph. As it began to pull her towards it, she began to fight against it, struggling to break its grip even though she knew she wouldn't. As she got closer to the canvas, its mouth opened, showing a familiar purple glow coming from inside him. She knew he was going to eat her. She screamed.

She jolted awake, screaming, the final image of Marc's twisted face etched onto her vision. She struggled to breathe for several seconds as the image faded. As it did she realised that she wasn't alone. She looked around slowly; Garr, Batalla and Jani were all stood around her. Garr and Batalla wore shocked expressions, and their faced were tinged with concern. Jani did not even glance at her; she simply continued with what she was doing.

"What are you doing?" Elle asked, suddenly nervous about what she was seeing. It looked like they were getting ready to move Marc, but to where?

"I'm taking him somewhere he'll get the treatment he needs", Jani said, coldly. "You should stay here".

Elle stood up at this, not quite understanding. "What?" she yelled. "No, I'm going wherever Marc goes!"

Batalla walked up behind her and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"We've been captured by an Alliance cruiser", Garr said solemnly. "Our engines are fried; there's no way we can escape. They've demanded that we hand over Marc and Jani, and we've got them to promise to treat him. And I believe that they will. You can't go with them".

Elle hesitated. She had said that she wanted to stay with Marc, but every time she looked at him now she saw the horrible version that she had seen in her dream. And now she was being told that simply going with him could end with her in an Alliance jail. It would also mean that she would be, for all intents and purposes, alone with Jani; a woman that she didn't trust, and was even a little frightened of.

"No", she said eventually. "I don't care if it's dangerous. I want to go with Marc. I won't stay here".

Garr sighed, and looked at Jani.

She waved her hand, dismissively. "Whatever", she said. "Now would one of you please hurry up and help me move him?"

They gently moved him onto one of the bed sheets and used it to lift him. They carried him down towards the escape pods. They were small; there would be barely enough room to lay Marc flat, and Elle and Jani would have to squeeze in around him. They positioned Marc as comfortably as they could, and Elle moved beside him, ready to hold him in place as the pod launched. Jani strapped herself down opposite.

Garr and Batalla stood at the entrance to the pod. Garr was trying to think of something to say, but was struggling. "Well", he said eventually. "Bye". He slammed the hatch closed and sealed it. Then he walked over to the controls, ignoring Batalla's disapproving looks, and hit the launch button.

The escape pod launched out into the blackness of space.


	28. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Deep into space, on the far edge of the outer rim, a battle was ensuing. An Alliance ship was being followed by two unfamiliar ships; similar in design to the Alliance ship, but with several noticeable differences. They were all heading toward a nearby planet. The surface of the planet looked unstable; even from space they could see oceans of lava, and see the smoke caused by volcanic eruptions on the surface. It did not look like a pleasant place.

The Alliance ship was in bad shape; the combined attacks from the other two ships were proving too much to handle. On board the ship a cloaked man struggled to keep control, to keep the ship pointing in the right direction. On the floor behind him another man – much younger – lay tied up and unconscious. It was Sar, and the pilot was the Dark Jedi.

His ship rocked violently from side to side, even when the other ships were not firing. Its systems were shutting down, one by one, and each time one of them failed it sent a shockwave throughout the ship. Though he believed that the ship would make it to the planet, he knew that it would not be able to cope with the stresses of entering its atmosphere. Not intact, anyway. He needed to move.

He quickly formulated a plan; one that, if he had a choice, he would not act out. He jammed the ships manual controls; the ship was pointing in the right direction at the moment, but he knew that a clean hit from either of the other two ships would knock them off course. _This would be so much easier if the autopilot was still working_, he thought to himself as he grabbed the unconscious Sar from where he was laying and dragged him to the back of the ship.

The ships solitary remaining escape pod was located there. If they were to survive the landing, they would need to launch the escape pod just as the ship began to enter the atmosphere. But from where they were they couldn't see anything; he would have to rely on the Force to tell him when the right moment was. He waited. Minutes went by, the ship rocking from side to side, his hand hovering over the launch control. Then he felt a familiar sensation in the back of his mind, telling him to push the button _now_.

So he did.

The escape pod flung itself out, away from the ship. The forces exerted on the two passengers were immense, and even the Jedi was almost overwhelmed.

Then the spinning began. As the escape pod fell it began to spiral. _Damn, _the Dark Jedi thought. The pods were supposed to have thrusters which kept them stable inside a gravitational field, and also made the landing softer. _Looks like we'll be hitting the ground a little harder than I thought. Still, at least this proves we've reached the planet_. The Dark Jedi smiled, bitterly, and tried his best to ignore the spinning. He was grateful that the escape pod had no windows, so he couldn't see the ground twirling around below him.

After several minutes of falling, they hit the ground with a violent crash. The hull of the escape pod bent sharply inwards, and the force pulling on the Jedi's restraints dug into his flesh, causing blood to flow out of the cuts. The noise it made was deafening, as was the noise it made as it tumbled over and over for a seemingly endless amount of time.

Finally it came to a halt; it lay dangerously close to the edge of a cliff, at the bottom of which was a lake of flaming hot lava. The planet's surface was hell; covered in burning ash and with eruptions of lava bursting through the ground.

Time passed with no movement from the ship; thirty seconds, then sixty. Then movement; a loud bang from inside, and the pod's hatch – which had been contorted in the crash – bent outwards. Then again, and again, until in one final strike it was flung away from the pod onto the ground below. Then a hand appeared, stained with blood. It was the Dark Jedi, dragging himself and a still unconscious Sar from the wreckage. When they had cleared the hatch he let Sar's limp body drop to the floor with a thud, and jumped down next to him. He took a few moments to catch his breath, during which he saw Sar's body stir; it appeared that the anaesthetic he had been injecting him with was starting to wear off. That might cause yet more problems.

He heard the sound of engines from above, and watched as the ships that had been attacking them flew overhead. They came in to land close by; unfortunately, he realised, they were landing directly in the path that he wanted to take. _So that rules out trying to outrun them_, he thought. _I guess they'll have to die._

He grabbed Sar – who by then had started to murmur to himself – and hoisted him up onto his back. Then he began the trek towards the two ships in the distance, secretly looking forward to the fight he knew he would find there.

They had been chasing him for two days, ever since he had entered this system; though, to start with there had been five ships. They'd appeared almost out of nowhere; he had sensed them before he'd seen them, but not by much, and his ships scanners couldn't detect them even then; they must have had some kind of stealth technology that was blocking his sensors. They were clearly Force sensitive; able to mask themselves from him. That narrowed down the list of people it could be, especially coupled with how far from the central systems they were.

They had attacked him then, but that time he had been able to lose them; he had managed to fall from their radar and land on an uninhabited planet, shutting his ship down to mask the energy signatures. Though it had delayed his mission, it had given him the opportunity to relax for the first time since this had all started.

It had been… what, four days ago? Five? He couldn't explain the feeling he'd had… it was like something was reaching out to him, promising him that everything he'd ever wanted would be his. And all he had to do was one little thing… just bring one boy to a faraway planet, and all his desires would be made real. How could anyone have resisted it?

He waited for a day before setting off again, hoping that their search had led them away from there. But it hadn't; they had left two ships waiting close by. And they'd been trying to destroy him since.

They weren't Jedi. If he had to guess, he'd say that they were Sith.

It didn't really matter anyway; they were standing in his way. The only thing that mattered was how much they knew, and how clever they were. He was confident in his ability to outclass them with a light-sabre; he had yet to find his equal. But their ability to mask themselves left him open to an ambush. He would have to keep his wits about him more than he had ever needed to before.

He was climbing a shallow hill, the black ash crackling under his shows. He could feel Sar's heartbeat and breath speeding up as he walked, and he knew that he had woken up; he was just playing possum. No matter; it would save him the trouble of restraining him.

There was no cover around them, which made it less likely that his enemies would be able to mount an ambush. Still, he was getting close to where he thought the ships had landed, yet he had seen no sign of them. Soon he realised why. When he moved over the top of the hill, he saw the two ships, and the two pilots. They were each unloading something from the backs of their ships; battle-droids. Probably two dozen from each ship, armed with blasters and heavy armour. They would be nothing more than a nuisance.

He suddenly dropped Sar to the ground, and he landed with a thud. Sar grunted involuntarily, revealing for sure that he had been playing possum and was awake. The Jedi turned to face him and saw the fear in his eyes; he had been unconscious since before they had left Hathrass so he had no idea where he was, or how he had arrived there. And, coupled with the grogginess that he no doubt felt after being asleep for so long, Sar was in a very fragile state.

But the Dark Jedi had neither the time nor the inclination to explain to him. He reached into the satchel that was hanging at his side and pulled out two short pieces of rope, which he used to restrain Sar – brushing away his feeble attempts to fight back. Then he stood up, readied himself and strode towards his enemies. He had decided that he was not going to sneak, and hide from his enemies; not that there was anywhere to hide. He would meet them head-on.

* * *

The Dark Jedi approached them from the North, with the sun directly behind them. All the two men could see was a silhouette etched against the sky above the horizon.

One of the men – his appearance that of a Mandalorian, save for the black cloak that both of them wore – raised his hand to try and shield his eyes from the sunlight as he watched the figure approach. Of course, he had sensed him much earlier, though the feeling he had was stranger than he had felt before. Every life force created a disturbance in the Force; most, who have no contact with or influence over the force, create a minute ripple. Force sensitives, such as the Jedi or Sith, create larger disturbances which shine like lights; the brighter the light, the stronger the person is with the Force.

The man approaching them shone like a beacon, consuming all other feelings or senses in its wake. Though the Mandalorian had raised his hand to shield himself from the sunlight, the disturbance in the Force which followed the man approaching them was even more blinding.

_But that isn't the whole story_, he thought. _The disturbance _follows_him, but he isn't the source._ He wondered briefly if his companion - a female, blue skinned Twi'lek – could sense the same, but the man was upon them before he could ask her. His mouth smiled, but his eyes revealed a coldness that ran deep. Describe him more.

The man waved his hand in greeting. "Hi", he said, his voice jovial. He waited for a response, but none was forthcoming so he continued. "You've been chasing me for quite a while. Is there any particular reason?"

Knowing that the only choice was to respond or attack, the Mandalorian answered. "You intruded into our territory", he said, his voice sounding almost mechanical through his face mask. "The punishment is _death_".

To his surprise, the man's smile widened further. "_Your_ space?" he said. "And who are you? I see you're well equipped; these droids you have are similar to the technology that the Alliance possesses". It was true; the three dozen or so battle droids that the pair had managed to unpack and initialise stood around them like vultures, waiting for their orders.

The Mandalorian looked at his companion, who was the one to answer. "We are _Sith_", she said, trying to inject her voice with menace, but knowing that the initiative had been lost.

The Dark Jedi contemplated this answer; he had suspected that they were Sith, but it was still surprising to see them. He had thought the Sith exterminated seventy years ago, the last time they had attempted to take control of the Galaxy. He should have realised they would come back eventually; they always did, like cockroaches.

"This isn't Sith space", he said. "Sith don't have any space. You're nomads, outcasts, with no home".

The Twi'lek's face filled with anger then, a vicious snarl spreading across her face. "That may be true now", she growled. "But your Alliance will be destroyed sooner than you think".

The Dark Jedi laughed loudly, another reaction that they were not expecting. "It's not _my_ Alliance", he said. "If you want to try and destroy it, be my guest. It won't matter. Nothing matters". Suddenly, his hand shot down to his side and before either of the Sith could react his light-sabre was already cutting through the Mandalorian's chest.

Blood erupted from the gash that it made, and the Mandalorian fell to the ground, a tiny moan sneaking from between his lips. The woman screamed with rage, and her own light-sabre was drawn. She attacked, but her anger was making her stupid; she lunged forward with no regard for her defence. The Dark Jedi parried blow after blow with ease, patiently waiting for his opportunity to counter.

That opportunity came when the woman made yet another ill-judged lunge forward and lost her footing. The brief second it took for her to right herself was more than enough time for the Dark Jedi to strike. He plunged his light-sabre into her chest. Their faces ended up centimetres from each other; he watched as the shock in her eyes turned to realisation; she was already dead. She started to gurgle, and the Dark Jedi switched off his light sabre and let her crumple lifeless to the floor.

He turned to the fallen Mandalorian. The cut in his chest was deep, but he was still alive. His eyes were darting from side to side, desperately looking for a way out, even though he wouldn't be capable of moving if he found one. The Jedi could see from his wound that he would not live long; the blood loss would kill him slowly.

He knelt beside him. He extended his hands towards him, and wrapped them around the Mandalorian's neck – a faint, barely audible protest was stifled. The Dark Jedi squeezed, and squeezed, until the Mandalorian stopped struggling.

Then he looked around. The Battle Droids were still waiting in silence, menacingly. He smiled. _These might come in handy_, he thought.

* * *

Sar had manoeuvred himself into a position where he could watch what was happening. He didn't know who the other two people were, or why they were there, but he knew that the Dark Jedi had murdered his mother, and he desperately wanted to see him suffer for it. But it became clear early on that the Dark Jedi would win; even Sar, who was a hundred yards away and had no knowledge of sword mastery, could tell that the blue-skinned woman was outclassed.

He turned his focus to trying to escape. His feet were tied together tightly, but only with rope; if he could manoeuvre his hands around from his back he was sure he would be able to untie them. And untying himself was something that he was always good at. His hands were tied behind his back, so he couldn't see what he was doing, but he didn't need to. He grabbed his right thumb with his left hand and twisted violently. His thumb came out of the joint painfully; he never admitted it to Marc, but doing this trick hurt like hell. Still, it allowed him to bend his thumb into his palm, and he slipped his right hand out of the rope.

He quickly untied his feet and stood up. That, as it turned out, was a mistake; the Dark Jedi was looking in his direction, and he saw that he had managed to untie himself. The Jedi started to run menacingly towards him.

_Crap_, Sar thought, and he ran in the opposite direction.

He was running at full tilt, but he knew it was pointless. There wasn't any real cover, just the occasional mound of ash to hide behind. He wouldn't be able to hide from the Jedi, and even if he could manage to lose him, where would he go?

He shook off those thoughts; he needed to escape, it didn't matter where to. He forced himself to run harder, though his chest was already starting to feel tight.

_This is pointless_, he thought. _I can't keep running forever. I need to take this guy out somehow._ He looked around desperately as he ran. As he emerged over the top of a small hill he saw what he thought was a cave. He ran towards it, reasoning that he would have a much better chance of hiding inside.

The cave entrance was small, barely big enough for him to squeeze through, so the larger Jedi would have even more trouble getting inside. It opened up beyond the door, and Sar was able to move around freely. He allowed himself one glimpse behind him, which he hadn't let himself do as he ran. He could see no sign of the Jedi following him. His heart jumped; maybe he'd been able to lose him after all.

His elation was short lived, though. The Jedi appeared directly on the other side of the opening, barely ten yards from Sar. The shock made him jump, and he tripped over a rock which lay on the floor. The Jedi's eyes were narrowed, filled with hate and anger. He didn't even attempt to squeeze through the gap; he simply stared at Sar for several seconds.

Suddenly, however, the Jedi moved. He grabbed his light-sabre and started to cut against the rock, making the opening bigger for him to fit through.

Sar knew that he would eventually get inside, so he turned his attention once again to finding a hiding place. Before he moved on, however, he grabbed the rock which he had tripped over; at least if he couldn't hide, he would have something to fight with.

He hurried deeper into the cave. When he had entered the cave he had been hit by the searing hot air, and it only grew hotter the deeper he went. Soon, it became too much to bear, and he had to stop. He hurried into a deep crevice which would hide him from view, and he waited for the Jedi to reach him. His intention was to wait for him to pass and then hit him with the rock that he still held in his hand. _Hell_, he thought, _it worked for Marc_.

Minutes went past, and there was no sign of the Jedi. Which was strange, as the rate at which he had been cutting away at the opening meant that he should have made it through long ago. Had the Jedi given up? Or was he waiting for him to crack in the heat?

His answer came quickly; a hand grabbed him violently across the mouth, and dragged him further back into the crevice that he was hiding in. The shock of having someone behind him caught Sar off guard, and a muffled cry escaped his lips.

"That was a mistake", a hoarse whisper in his ear said. "Don't make it again".

* * *

It took another hour for them to reach their destination. Sar's hands had been bound again, tighter this time, and he was forced to walk two strides ahead of the Dark Jedi. At first, Sar tried to think of a way to escape, but he soon realised that he wouldn't be able to. Instead he switched to trying to think of a way to convince him to let him go. It wasn't going well.

The landscape was mostly the same everywhere; black ash covered the ground, and they passed the occasional lake of molten hot lava. The ash reminded him of the black sand that Socorro was covered in, if he ignored the smell of sulphur that filled the air. The lava, though, was a wonder that he had never seen before; there were no volcanoes on Socorro – at least, none that were active. Even though he was terrified at what his captor would do with him, he couldn't help but stare in wonder at his surroundings. This was an _alien planet_! The first he had ever seen in person!

The novelty wore off after about half an hour, though. The heat was starting to choke him, and the landscape quickly became monotonous.

That changed as they got close to their destination. Sar was surprised at the first flower that he saw; how could a flower have grown in such a horrific environment, where there didn't seem to be any water for it to drink? Its petals were a deep purple that he had never seen on a flower before. He thought that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He stopped to admire it, but almost instantly the Jedi pushed him forward again.

He was disappointed, but not for long. The further they walked the more flowers he saw; a few at first, then tens, then hundreds. As they passed into a canyon, the ground was covered with them as far as they could see. It was… astonishing.

The canyon was not straight; instead, it curved around to the left in front of them. As they moved around the corner, a structure came into view. Sar's jaw dropped when he saw it. It looked like a temple; the stone used to construct it looked ancient, but it was still perfectly intact. It was a dark grey colour, and it seemed to stretch upwards just as high as the cliffs that surrounded them.

His captor pushed him toward it, violently and wordlessly. The entrance was surrounded by pillars which must have been at least thirty feet high. There were large steps leading up to it, which Sar struggled to climb without using his hands to help him up.

As they moved inside the temple, he could _taste_ the millennia old dust as he breathed, and he felt like an intruder.

They stopped in front of a door. The Dark Jedi moved around so that he was in front of Sar and facing him. He looked at him for a moment, and then he put his hand into his satchel. When he brought his hand out, Sar immediately recognised the object that he held; it was the fragment that he, Marc and Elle had found on Socorro. At that moment, he realised that the room he was standing in now was almost identical in design to the one that they had stumbled across days ago. Was that possible? They were light years away from Socorro, so how could the two places be linked?

As hard as it was to accept he could come up with no other explanation. He guessed that beyond the door they were standing in front of would be a room with a pedestal in the centre, just like before.

He realised that the Jedi had been standing there for over a minute, just staring at him. "Um…" Sar mumbled. "What?"

"Make it glow", his captor growled. "Like you did before. Now".

Sar finally realised just how much trouble he was in. This man was obviously insane, and if he found out that it wasn't Sar who had caused the orb to glow, and that he had wasted this entire journey, Sar believed that he would be capable of anything.

Sar decided to try and keep him talking as long as possible. "W… why do you need me to make it glow?" he asked. He was still a little groggy from the crash, and his mind was still working slowly. Too slowly. "Can't you do it yourself?"

"No", the man responded. "No, the fragment won't do anything for me. It only responds to certain people… people that it chooses to react to". He paused, looking at Sar. He was trying to decide how much to tell him. "You see… the fragment is only a part of a whole. The other part is behind this door, and the only way to open the door is to make the piece we have glow. When the two pieces are reunited they'll give whoever holds them unimaginable power. And that power will save the Galaxy. The power that you can control". He stood over Sar and stared at him. "So", he said, "open the door for me. Now".

Sar breathed heavily. He stood, slowly, his hands raised. He nodded, trying to convince Gabe that he intended to do as he asked. When he was stood turned towards the door, his back to Gabe, and held the fragment tightly in his hands.

Suddenly, he started to run. He ran as fast and as hard as he could, towards the back of the temple. He knew that he didn't have anywhere to go, and that the Jedi would be able to catch him easily, but he needed to try. He had run out of options.

He didn't look back as he emerged behind the temple. There was nothing there – no way for him to go. All that was there was a cliff edge. He heard footsteps behind him; not hurried footsteps, but slow, casual footsteps; as though he knew that he had no need to rush. Sar bolted towards the cliff edge and turned to face Gabe.

He held the fragment over the edge. "Don't come any closer", he shouted. "I swear I'll drop it".

The Dark Jedi smiled, clearly amused. "If you drop it then I'll kill you. There would be no more reason for you to live", he said casually.

Sar hesitated at this, and lost focus momentarily. It was more than enough time for the Jedi to react. He lifted his hand toward Sar who felt a sudden force pulling him forward, away from the cliff edge. He cried out in surprise, and the fragment fell from his hand onto the ground. Sar immediately tried to stand but Gabe was on him, pushing him down.

He still wore the same amused smile as he stared down at Sar. "That was… misguided", he said. He reached out his hand again and slowly closed his fingers, as though he was grabbing something. Then he twisted his wrist.

Sar felt something… pushing against his leg. At first it was nothing, but as Gabe's hand twisted he felt pain shoot up his leg. His bone was being bent. He grunted in pain.

"You should have done as I asked. All I want is for you to fulfil your potential", Gabe said, sudden anger filling his voice. He twisted his hand further. Sar felt a bone in his leg snap. He screamed and writhed on the floor, clutching his leg. The Jedi's face was expressionless. He moved his hand and did the same to Sar's other leg. He intended to snap every bone in this boy's body.

The screaming made Sar's throat dry. After a while his screams became soundless – just breath leaving his mouth. Tears were streaming down his face, and his body lay contorted on the floor.

The Dark Jedi looked on. His face was strained, as though the horrible things he was doing disgusted even himself. Eventually, he stopped. He sighed and sat down next to Sar, who lay panting on the ground.

They remained in silence for several minutes, simply looking at each other. After a while, the Jedi spoke.

"Listen, kid", he said. "I hate doing this. I don't have a choice. I know that isn't any comfort to you, but I really want you to know that I don't want to hurt you". He looked at Sar then as though expecting him to speak. When he didn't, he sighed again, and lay down on his back. "This torture thing", he continued. "It doesn't end, you know? It just goes on and on until you break. Hours. Hell, _days_ if that's what it takes. Do you really think you'll be able to handle that?"

Sar had lifted his head to look at his torturer. He stared into his eyes, and he realised that he meant every word that he said. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold out forever, and that left him with a choice between spending maybe hours in horrible pain or giving up and selling out his friend.

"Just… open the door", the Jedi pleaded. "That's all I want, and then everything will make sense. I promise. I'll even give you a ride to the nearest inhabited planet. What do you say?"

Sar paused. He had already made his decision. "I never reacted with the orb", he said reluctantly. Gabe's eyes widened, slowly. "I was with two others when I found it. My friend Marc was the one that made it glow. I just took it home". Sar lowered his head, ashamed of telling this man about his friend.

The Dark Jedi sat completely still. A rage was building inside him that he had never felt before. _Five days_, he thought to himself. _Five days I've wasted. Five days this little _shit_has been laughing at me behind my back_. His face didn't give his anger away, and Sar looked at him hopefully, still expecting the Jedi to set him free. Almost absent mindedly, Gabe's finders closed around a large rock that lay beside him. _I'll kill him_, he thought as he brought the rock down on Sar's head. Sar went to ground immediately, shock filling his face and blood spurting from the newly open wound. Gabe leaned over him and brought the rock down on Sar's head again. And again. And again.

After what seemed like a long time he realised that all he was doing now was pounding mush. Sar's skull had been crushed completely.

He kneeled there, panting heavily. He looked down at the horrific sight of Sar's ruined body, and he vomited. He was disgusted with himself; he'd never felt as _angry_ as he just had, but now that it was starting to fade all he felt was revulsion for what he had become.

Deep down inside, though, he knew that he could never stop… never turn away from the path that he'd set himself on, even if he wanted to. The power that compelled him to act wouldn't allow him to stop. His life had ended a long time ago.

He stood; a determined look on his face. He knew the path that he needed to take. He would go to Jani. He knew her… knew that she would follow him until the end of time if she needed to. She would know how to find this… Marc… and when he found her he would _make_ her tell him. And then he would have his prize.

He began the journey back to the now ownerless Sith ships.


	29. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

There was a kind of… ripple in space; so brief that it barely registered at all. As though something was there, but you couldn't see or feel it. That was what hyperspace was; ships which occupy space that isn't quite a part of this reality, but influences it none-the-less, allowing you to move _behind_ space. This ripple was caused by Garin's ship exiting hyperspace.

Passing from one reality to another is something that the living body was never designed to do. As a result, there were always certain side effects when passing in and out of hyperspace; headaches, nausea, and temporary loss of vision. That was what Garin felt at the moment he passed from Hyperspace to regular space. All he could see was a blur in front of him; not what was in front of the ship, or even the console that his hands were resting on. He knew that it would pass, as it had done many times in the past, but it still unnerved him.

As his vision returned, he found himself surprised by how crowded the sky around Tatooine was. The Rebel's policy was to avoid amassing large numbers of military ships around their main base, so as to avoid the risk of drawing attention to that planet. Garin wondered what had happened while he was away that would make them change their plans so drastically.

His radio started to beep; they were signalling for him to transmit his code. _Strange_, he thought. _They usually wait until I try to make contact before asking for the code._ It appeared that the Rebels had forced a stranglehold on Tatooine, not letting anyone in who couldn't prove that they were part of the Rebel force. And that meant that they were no longer concerned with keeping their location a secret.

He leaned forward, and transmitted the code; at least, the code that he was given more than two weeks ago, before he was marooned on Socorro. No doubt they would have changed it by then; he would have to hope that they let him in anyway.

Minutes went by, and as they did he became more and more convinced that they would not let him through, and that they would open fire any second. But then a familiar voice spoke over the radio.

"Garin?" it said. "Is that you?"

Garin grinned. "Admiral Connor", he said, happily. "I'm glad to hear that you're safe, sir. I wasn't sure what had happened after the battle with the _Endor_".

The Admiral laughed. "That was a close one", he said. "We barely got out of there alive. Where in heaven's name have you been all this time?"

Garin leaned back in his chair. "That", he sighed, "is a long story".

* * *

Garin's ship was quickly ushered down to the ground. As Garin descended down the ship's exit ramp, he was greeted by the smiling face of Admiral Connor. The two approached each other and shook hands vigorously.

"It's damn good to see you, son", Connor said. "After… what happened… we thought you were gone for good".

Garin laughed coldly. "I almost was, sir. What happened back there?"

Connor's expression turned serious then. "It was bad", he sighed. "While you were on the ship we were ambushed by a fleet of Alliance cruisers. Turns out the information we were given was false; they set us up for an ambush, and we walked right into it. Still… we had about the same number of ships as them. It shouldn't have been as bad a defeat as it was, dammit, we should have put up a better fight". His voice became nervous then, his face guilty. "I don't know why we left without you. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me when I gave the order. I _never_ leave people behind".

Garin put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "It's OK", he said, reassuringly. "I might have an explanation". Connor's face filled with puzzlement, but before he could say anything Garin spoke again. "I need to speak with the Council. Urgently".

The Admiral looked away, and did not respond for what seemed like a long time. "Walk with me", he said quietly, and the pair began to slowly walk in the direction of the War Room.

They walked in silence for a moment, Garin sensing that something was bothering the Admiral but not wanting to press him. Eventually, the old man spoke. "A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks", he said, his tone serious. "It's not been going well".

_It might be going a lot worse than you think_, Garin thought. "What's happened?" he asked.

"It's the Jedi Order", he said. "They've joined with the Alliance". Garin's face barely flickered. He had come here to warn them of that same fact, but he wasn't surprised that they already knew; after all, it had been more than two weeks. He would have been surprised if they hadn't made an impact in that time.

The Admiral looked at him. "You already knew?" he asked.

Garin nodded. "I suspected in the days after the attack. You said that the battle with the _Endor _shouldn't have gone as badly as it did; I thought the same. And I knew that under normal circumstances you wouldn't have left that battle without waiting for me and my men". He sighed, and closed his eyes. "Have you ever heard tell of a Force technique called Battle Meditation?" The Admiral's blank face answered his question. "It's a power that some Jedi have. If they concentrate hard enough they can alter the way the people around them are feeling, boosting their allies' morale while sapping their enemies'. That was the only explanation I could come up with for us losing so badly.

"My suspicions were confirmed by Jani…"

"Wait", Connor interrupted. "Jani escaped with you?"

Garin shook his head. "We met up much later". He was becoming a little impatient; every moment they wasted, Jani and Marc were inching closer and closer to their goal, and there was no telling what would happen when they got there. "That's what I need to talk to the council about".

Connor again stayed quiet. Garin could sense that something had happened in his absence; why would Connor be so reluctant to speak about the Council?

They both entered the War Room. It was crowded and bustling with people, as it always was. Garin always enjoyed being there – there were always big decisions to make that could affect people's lives, and it made him feel as though he was part of something _important_. Something that would make a difference. But there was a sombre mood to it this time, a feeling of negativity. Garin noticed immediately that there were people missing.

"Where are the council members?" he asked in a shocked voice. They were almost always present in the War Room, so much so that to see it without them made it somehow… diminished.

When Connor did not answer immediately, Garin turned to see him staring at the ground. When he spoke his voice quivered. "They were killed", he said, and then he swallowed.

Garin could not grasp what he was hearing. "What", he breathed. "All of them?" Connor nodded. "But… how? When?"

Connor walked further into the War Room, looked it over and then turned back to face Garin. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Things have been bad since you were last with us", he said. "To put it bluntly, we're losing this war. the Jedi Council siding with the Alliance has shifted the balance of power back in their favour, and we can't seem to find a way to adapt to it. The battle with the Endor didn't finish when we jumped out of there and left you. They _followed_ us".

"What do you mean the followed you? How is that even possible?" Garin had always been told that when a ship passed into Hyperspace it went beyond any means of tracking.

"It was the Jedi", Connor answered. "We don't know how, but they must have been able to sense where we were. The Council were waiting to rendezvous with us in the Degoba system. We met up with them, but the Alliance were on us in seconds. The cruiser that the Council were on was destroyed".

Garin stood in shocked silence. He simply couldn't wrap his mind around what he was being told; the Council had been there since the Rebels first formed, almost fifteen years ago. They'd been the first to voice their discontent, the first few who were brave enough to stand up to the Alliance. Where could the Rebels go without them?

"And that isn't even the worst part", Connor sighed. "For two weeks they attacked us relentlessly, but it was _war_, and they obeyed the rules of engagement – they didn't kill prisoners, they didn't attack civilians. But then all of a sudden… something happened to the Jedi, on both sides. They went _crazy_, started destroying everything they could see, including their allies and even each other. It was horrific; before we knew what was happening entire colonies had been wiped out. And you know what the worst part is? We still don't have the slightest idea what caused it".

Garin sighed. "I think I might be able to shed some light on that". Jani had told him what the fragment they were searching for was capable of, but part of him had refused to believe her. Now he had no choice but to accept it.

Connor looked at him. Two weeks ago he might not have believed him, but now he was desperate for any explanation. "Wait", he said, and he moved away. Garin watched patiently as Connor moved over to the front of the War Room, to a group of people – military people – who had been busy talking since he and Connor had entered the room. He saw Connor speak with them, and one of the men in the group looked at him suspiciously more than once.

Eventually Connor and the suspicious man walked back over to him. "Garin", Connor said when they reached him. "This is Admiral Jordan. He's been the man in charge of military operations here for the past three years".

Garin had heard of him before, and had always been keen to meet him. Many of the Rebel's victories recently had been attributed to Jordan's unparalleled tactical skills. He extended his hand and, after a brief pause, Jordan shook it. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir", he said.

Jordan's face was impassive. It seemed to Garin that he held him in mild suspicion. _Not surprising_, Garin thought. _In the past two weeks things have suddenly gone to hell, and then I conveniently show up after two weeks of being missing and offer an explanation. He probably thinks I'm a spy._

"What have you got for us, soldier?" Jordan asked. His voice was rough edged and his manner was blunt, as though he was impatient to return to what he was doing.

Garin thought briefly, wondering where to start. He decided to start right at the beginning.

"Only six of us escaped from the Endor, out of thirty. We all crammed into one escape pod and launched. We floated through space for a couple of hours before the pod got us to Socorro, and we landed in one piece. For a while everything was normal, just another backwater planet, and we spent our time trying to figure out a way of getting off it.

"Anyway… I met three kids, saved a couple of them from getting killed over some stupid card game. They offered to take me us to the nearest town where we could barter for passage to another world. The problem was we had no way of getting to the nearest town – Socorro's sun is deadly, if we'd tried to walk it we wouldn't have lasted long, so that meant another delay.

"And that delay proved pretty devastating. Those kids… found something, in the mountains near their village. I wasn't there, but from what they told me they were attacked by the same people that we saved them from the first time around. They managed to escape by heading further into the caves in the mountains. But they found something there.

"They told me that when they approached it there was a burst of energy. I can't be sure, but it sounds like that was about the same time as you say the Jedi started to go crazy".

Jordan stirred then. "This is ridiculous", he snarled. "You can't expect us to believe this fairy-tale".

Garin looked at him but didn't respond. If he was being honest, now that he was saying it out loud it did seem unbelievable. "After that things started to get worse", he continued. "The village that we had camped near was attacked late at night… by an Alliance ship". Their eyes lit up, then. "The entire village was destroyed, and most of its inhabitants were killed. My men died trying to take the ship down, and I nearly did too.

"It was later that I found out that the pilot of that ship was there to find one of the kids, and what they had found in the caves. He was willing to slaughter dozens of people to get to it. Whatever they found was important.

"When I woke up we were in a truck, half way to the town that we'd been trying to get to. Two of the three kids were there, along with someone that I think you know; Jani".

Jordan's eyes widened. "The Grey Jedi? I didn't think she'd managed to get off the Endor".

"She did", Garin confirmed. "She says that they fought their way to the docking bay and stole an Alliance shuttle. And she came crashing down on Socorro at the same time as the village was attacked".

"Do you think she had anything to do with it?" Connor asked.

"I have no doubt that she did, indirectly. But she was apparently unconscious when the attack took place.

"Anyway, she claims that what those kids found in the caves is part of some kind of… ancient force weapon of incredible power, and that the person who attacked the village was a Dark Jedi hell bent on getting his hands on it. But to do that he needs to reunite the pieces, the last of which is on a planet beyond the outer rim. And he'd kidnapped one of the kids because he needs him to… turn it on, like he did in the caves.

"I mean, I've never heard anything about this weapon before, but from what Jani tells me it could be strong enough to change the balance of power in the Galaxy in the favour of whoever controls it".

Jordan and Connor looked at each other doubtfully. "So what is it that you're asking for?" Jordan asked.

Garin sighed. "I need a team. Not a large one, but there's a chance we might have to go up against at least one Jedi, and I can't do that on my own. I want to go to the planet and try and claim this weapon for the Rebels. Once we know it's safe we can decide what to do with it".

Jordan frowned. "We're stretched enough as it is", he said. "Request denied". He turned to walk away.

"But…" Garin started to protest, but was quickly interrupted.

"There's no point arguing", Connor said, and he put a hand on Garin's shoulder. "Once he's made a decision he won't change his mind. Let it go".

Garin thought about protesting further, but didn't see any point. He would have to stay quiet, for now, but there was no way he was going to let this go. He was convinced that what was happening was a direct result of this… _orb_, and that acquiring it should be their main priority. But if they weren't going to help him willingly, he would have to make them help him some other way.

He was escorted away by two security guards. He knew that Admiral Jordan did not trust him – he might even have suspected him of being a spy for the Alliance – and he was already thinking of ways to turn that to his advantage.

He was herded into a small crew cabin – a tiny, hard bed was lined up against the back wall, and a desk and a bookcase were on the left hand wall. The door was slammed hard behind him, and Garin heard the lock click into place – it seemed that they didn't want him wandering around without an escort.

He walked over to the bed and lay down on it. He needed to rest, and he needed to plan. He let his eyes close, and pretty soon he was fast asleep.

* * *

_Garin dreamed. He was back on Socorro, days ago. He was sat at the edge of the village square – the Dark Jedi had not yet attacked, and the people were still celebrating. They were dancing and drinking, and smiling. There were dozens of people – it seemed as though the whole village had come out to join in. Despite how concerned he was about his men and the survival of the Rebels, he couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his lips._

_A pretty young woman approached him. "Hi", she said. He recognised her, and he remembered this night. They were going to dance, and he was going to remember… horrible things. Then he would thank her, and he would never see her alive again._

"_Hello", Garin replied. He tried to warn her, to tell her to leave the village as soon as she could. But he couldn't say the words – his mouth wouldn't do what he wanted it to._

"_Do you want to dance?" she asked. "I'm here all on my own". _

Run!_his voice screamed in his head. _Get away from here_. "Sorry", Garin answered. "I'm not much of a dancer. I've got two left feet". The girl was very pretty – her blonde hair was tied up in pigtails, and she had a smile that could launch a thousand ships. And she smiled a lot._

"_I won't take no for an answer", she said, and grabbed his hand. Garin thought about protesting, but quickly got caught up in the atmosphere. _

_They stared into each other's eyes as they danced, completely lost in the moment. _

_As he stared into her eyes, her skin began to burn. At first it was only red patches, but quickly the skin turned crisp and began to peel away. And still they both smiled – Garin was horrified, but he could not force himself to pull away. He watched as her eyes melted in their sockets, and her beautiful blonde hair set on fire and turned black._

_The flame from her hair travelled down her body, which was rubbing up so close to his. Soon he began to catch fire as well. He could feel the heat, and he could feel the pain that the fire caused. But still he smiled, and still he danced, while inside his head he was screaming in agony…._

* * *

He awoke thrashing violently. He was still in bed, still in the tiny room that he had been locked into. He was sweating all over – the dream that he had just had was still fresh in his mind, and it had shaken him to his core. But he knew it would fade quickly… his dreams always did, no matter how horrible the things they showed him.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. it was dark outside – he guessed that he had slept for at least three or four hours. He needed to move, and he knew what he would do. It was a stupid plan, he knew, and it was desperate. But they were not going to see reason, so he had to force their hand.

He walked to the door of his room and banged hard on it. Then he moved behind the door so that anyone coming through it would not be able to see him. A few seconds of silence passed, and Garin became worried that they had not bothered to post a guard outside the door. But then he heard the sound of the locks opening, and he relaxed. The door opened slowly, and a young man's head popped through. Garin hit him hard across the head, knocking him out with one clean blow. Then he dragged the unconscious body all the way into the room and left, locking the door behind him.

He walked casually along the corridors, confident that the majority of people would be unaware that he was meant to be confined. He was heading towards the hangar bay, intending to steal a ship.

He got there fairly quickly, and without anybody questioning his presence. There were several soldiers inside the hangar bay, and he knew that he would have to talk his way past them and onto a ship. He decided to try to pull rank. He strode confidently over to them. When they saw him approaching they all stood to attention. He smiled – that was a good sign.

"At ease, gentlemen", he said, and the three men relaxed. "I'm here to perform a surprise inspection of this shuttle".

This prompted nervous looks from the men. "Um…" one of them said. "We didn't hear anything about an inspection, Lieutenant".

"Ah", Garin said. "That is why it is called a _surprise_ inspection, Sergeant. To keep you on your toes, make sure you're doing your job all of the time, not just when you know there's going to be an inspection. I'll be boarding alone, and looking over all of the key systems". With that, he strode past the three men, who saluted as he left. He was nervous about them contacting their superiors to question the order, but he knew that if he was quick enough it wouldn't matter.

As soon as he had boarded the ship and was out of sight he broke into a fast run. He reached the cockpit of the shuttle in just a few seconds, and strapped himself in to the pilot's chair. He got all of the systems running before he turned on the engine. When he did he could see the panic stricken soldiers shouting at each other and into their communicators. They were too slow to stop him.

The shuttle rose gently into their air just as a squad of soldiers reached the hangar bay. All they could do was watch as Garin floated into the air above them. He didn't bother using the controls to open the hangar bay doors – he used the weapons on his ship to blast his way through them, ending flaming debris crashing down to the ground, and sending the soldiers below scattering in all directions.

He flew the shuttle clear. When he was a few hundred yards above the Rebel base, he turned the ship around. Then he paused, briefly, as though he was debating whether or not to go through with something. _Forgive me…_ he thought to himself. Then he targeted the ships weapons at the base below, making sure to only target places with no one in them, and he fired on them. He fired on his own base, his own allies. People he knew as his friends. He knew that they would think that Jordan would believe that he had been right – that Garin was a spy for the Alliance. And he also knew that they would follow him now – they would follow him into the pits of hell if that was where he went.

He headed towards the distant planet, where he had always intended to go. He supposed there wasn't much difference.


	30. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

_It feels as though the world is rushing past him… he has to fight to stay still. Everything is purple…_

_Marc is a baby, crying for someone to comfort it. But there is no one there. Only the purple glow surrounded by darkness. He is cold. He is hungry. He is alone…_

_But he is not alone. A figure emerges, piercing through the darkness. His face is young and innocent, his eyes wide in concern. He speaks to Marc, but Marc is only a baby, and he doesn't understand the sounds. The man is his brother, before he became his brother._

_He reaches his hands out and lifts Marc off the ground. As soon as they touch the darkness vanishes. _

_They are in a cave, a familiar room. Next to them lies a pedestal, and on the ground there lies a shattered orb – two pieces, glowing faintly._

_Marc is held tightly to his brother's chest, and he feels safe. Marc remembers that his brother is dead._

_He is carried away from the cold place he was born, and out under the night sky. He is crying, but his brother strokes his head and comforts him._

_Marc lifts his head. Behind them he sees a dark figure. He is cloaked, and his face is covered. Though he can't see his face he knows now who he is, and the knowledge fills him with terror._

* * *

Marc was being treated in the medical bay on the _Endor_. True to their word, they had taken him there immediately for treatment after the escape pod holding him, Elle and Jani had been captured. In fact, they seemed overly concerned with his well-being; a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Jani.

Her and Elle had been dragged from the escape pod as soon as it had docked. Jani had struggled a little, and she had been beaten for it.

Elle felt a little overwhelmed – a feeling that she had gotten used to recently. The ship they had been brought to was nothing like any of the others she had been on, even as a little girl. She'd been dragged out of the pod and marched along a maze of white, brightly lit corridors – she'd seen more species and more types of droid that she even knew existed. And then they had been thrown into two separate cells, opposite each other. They were locked in with an energy barrier which shocked them if they tried to leave their cell.

And then they'd been left alone; ignored, even. There wasn't even a guard that she could see, just cameras to monitor them. She hadn't seen Marc since they had taken him away almost two hours ago, and she was worried.

The cells weren't small – maybe 4 metres square, with a bed that was at least soft.

She looked across at Jani, who had been silent since they had left the Raven. Elle couldn't be sure, but she guessed that she was regretting the decision to allow themselves to be captured. And Elle, despite her previous conviction, was regretting her decision to follow Marc regardless. She had no idea what would happen to them, or what the Alliance wanted with them. It had certainly seemed that they were more interested in Marc than Jani, which even Elle knew meant that they were after the same thing that Jani and the Dark Jedi were.

Jani was thinking pretty much the same thing; the Alliance were definitely after the orb. That worried her. Going up against a single enemy was simple enough, even if that enemy was as dangerous as she knew the Dark Jedi to be. But going up against the Alliance – with the vast resources they had at their disposal – would be next to impossible.

But that was a problem for later. She had to deal with her immediate problems, which, she thought, were difficult enough.

She sighed and looked up. She saw Elle looking at her. _Why did that bitch have to follow us_, she thought to herself. _Things were already complicated enough_. The pair stared at each other from across the prison block, but neither of them spoke for a long time.

Eventually Elle spoke. Her voice was tiny, and afraid. "What are we going to do?" she squeaked.

Jani snorted. She had no idea what they were going to do. "We're going to escape, and then we're going to find Marc", she said.

"But how?" Elle asked.

Jani sighed, angrily. _God, this girl is pathetic_, she thought. "Look", she said aloud. "Stop whining. Either we'll find a way out of this or we won't. Those are our only two options. Now shut up and let me think". With that, Jani lay down on her bed and stared intently up at the ceiling. Elle saw that Jani was not going to say anything more to her.

She didn't have to. Almost immediately after Jani had stopped speaking they heard the door to the prison block slide open. Jani stood and walked over to the front of her cell and strained to look sideways at who was coming towards them. When she realised who it was her heart sank.

"We meet again", the man said. It was the Admiral of the Endor; the man who had sprung the trap that had cost the lives of thousands of Rebel soldiers when they had tried to hijack the Endor. Jani didn't care about that, all she remembered was his mindless gloating in front of her and Gabe. When she looked back on it, that was the beginning of everything that had happened.

"What's the matter?" he continued in an infuriatingly smug tone of voice. "Aren't you going to say hello?"

Jani stayed silent. She hadn't got the chance to punch this man the last time they had met, however much she had wanted to. It was something she was eager to rectify at the earliest opportunity.

"You managed to escape the last time you were on my ship, but you won't this time". He started to walk backwards and forwards across the front of her cell, inches from her. "And we weren't even looking for you. What a happy coincidence".

Jani couldn't resist speaking them, though she hated herself for doing it. She rolled her eyes. "If you weren't looking for me", she said, "then who were you looking for?"

The Admiral smiled a winning grin – the kind that made people's skin crawl. "You know who – and what – I'm looking for. It's the same thing that you are, I imagine. A weapon of unimaginable power, hidden on a planet beyond the Outer Rim".

_Shit_, Jani though, though her face remained impassive. _How did this dick find out about the orb?_ She briefly considered denying all knowledge of what he was talking about, but realised that would serve no purpose. "So, what, when you find it the Alliance will be unstoppable? Is that the idea?"

The Admiral let out another loud burst of laughter. "The Alliance?" he said loudly, before moving in closer and whispering. "The Alliance is nothing. When I have that weapon I will rule this Galaxy as its new Emperor. There will be no Alliance, no Rebels, only me".

"You're insane", a small voice said from behind him. It was Elle, who had become tired of being ignored. "I don't care what this Orb is, nothing can make one man powerful enough to take over the entire Galaxy".

The Admiral looked at her as though he was noticing her for the first time, and he smiled. "Has she not told you what this weapon is capable of?" He looked back at Jani briefly, who glowered at him, and then he walked slowly toward Elle. "It is the Force itself, condensed into a ball. The person who controls its power can do literally anything; they could bend reality to suit their whim, or destroy entire planets just by willing it to be so". His eyes widened in lust, and Elle realised that he _was_ insane. His voice became louder and louder until it was a deafening bellow. "I will be a God among insects! All will bow before me, or die!"

At that moment the ship shook with a thunderous crash. The Admiral was knocked clear off his feet and flung across the room, slamming into a far wall. He cried out in pain; a sound which filled Jani with a twisted kind of joy. As he struggled to his feet the ship rocked again; they were clearly under attack. He stumbled this time, but did not fall. Instead, he lunged toward the control panel at the centre of the room and yelled into the communicator. "What the hell is going on?"

A fuzzy voice came back over the radio. "We're under attack, sir", it said, stating the obvious.

"Why didn't we see it coming? We're in the middle of nowhere, there's nothing they could have hid behind!" The Admiral's face was bright red; he was clearly angry at this embarrassing turn of events.

"Our sensors didn't pick them up, sir", the voice replied. "They still can't. We're firing back, but we're having to rely on line of sight. I'm sorry sir".

The Admiral let out a loud growl, and then he stormed away. Jani smiled.

* * *

The bridge of the Endor was in chaos. The first two blasts had hit it directly, causing minor explosions all around the room. Many people were injured, and being escorted away to the medical area. The people who weren't injured were screaming and shouting, some in panic, others in a futile attempt at restoring calm.

The ship was small and fast, speeding backwards and forwards around the outside of the ship. Their sensors were useless; as were their automatic weapons, which could not lock on. They were having to rely on their gunnery soldiers, which were only usually used against large or stationary targets; they simply couldn't handle a small, quick moving target.

The Admiral arriving on the bridge did at least help to restore a little order to the crew. Many of them had been on the receiving end of his anger before, and even the threat of being blown up was preferable to that. He strode onto the bridge and sat down in a chair at the centre. Though his face was still red, he appeared to have calmed down on his way to the bridge.

"What's the situation?" he asked, calmly.

A young female crew member approached him nervously. "Um…" she hesitated. "As far as we can tell there is only one attacking ship. It's small, and very fast, and like we said before our sensors can't lock on to it at all. It must have come kind of stealth technology. We've been firing at it constantly but I don't think we've landed one hit".

The Admiral had rested his head on his hands, covering his mouth. "What about its weapons? Is it a serious threat to us?"

"I don't think so", the female crewmember responded. "It's fired dozens of shots at us, but we've only sustained small amounts of damage – mostly external hull damage, with a handful of fires breaking out. I don't think there's any chance of it fatally damaging the ship".

He leaned back in his chair. At least that was something, he thought. "Do we have any idea what kind of ship it is? Where it came from?"

The girl swallowed nervously. "Um…" she started. "No, sir. It's similar to our larger attack shuttles, but with improved weapons and armour. We don't know where it came from or who is piloting it".

Suddenly, the attacking ship flew past the front screen, directly in view of everyone on the ship. This was punctuated by another blast hitting the hull, causing the ship to rock from side to side.

The Admiral leaned forward, staring out of the front screen. _Who are you, you son of a bitch?_ he thought to himself.

* * *

The Dark Jedi looked out through the front view screen of his stolen ship at the damage he had done. He knew that it would not be nearly enough to destroy the Endor; that was not his intention. He needed to get onto their ship.

He decided that it was time for him to make his move. He aimed the ship at the _Endor's _docking bay doors and opened fire continuously. He couldn't hold this position for long, he knew. If the Endor's weapons made even one direct hit then his ship would be damaged irreparably, and in all likelihood he would die. He just needed to hold long enough for his ships weapons to weaken this part of the hull enough for him to break through.

He continued firing for thirty seconds – it was as long as he dared, and his Force instinct told him that it was time to move. He engaged the ships engines and rammed the side of the Endor.

* * *

The ship shook with the impact, but none knew exactly what had happened. On the bridge, the Commander had once again been knocked from his feet. "Report", he shouted as he rose, dragging himself upright using his own command chair.

The female crew member who had briefed him earlier moved to respond. "That wasn't weapons fire", she said. The Admiral realised, not for the first time, that this girl was the only member of his crew who hadn't panicked when they had come under fire. "If I had to guess I'd say we've been rammed".

She moved over to a console on the side wall of the bridge and hit a few buttons. Her lips pressed further together, and she looked back at the Admiral. "We have a hull breach on deck fifteen", she yelled across to him. "Emergency force fields are keeping containment, but I'd say we've been boarded".

_Shit_, he thought to himself. _Who the hell is this guy we're fighting?_ He got to his feet and strode off the bridge, leaving the young crew member in charge. He ordered a security team to meet him at the armoury. When he got there, around a dozen men were waiting, fully armed. The Admiral laughed inside. _They don't panic when they're fighting something they can see_, he thought.

He grabbed a large rifle from the armoury, and then he motioned for them to follow him down to deck fifteen. He was determined that he would stop this intruder before he could cause any more damage to his ship.

When they arrived at deck fifteen they were all shocked at what they saw. The corridors were filled with a dense smoke – so thick that they could barely see a yard in front of them. They inched their way along the floor, their eyes darting from one side to the other. Occasionally they could see the burns of blaster fire along the walls; there had been a battle here, but between who?

The Admiral was string at one of these burns when his foot hit something soft. He looked down to see the charring remains of one of his crew. He raised his hand to his mouth to try and drown out the smell of burnt meant; from the looks of it, the crew member had been fired at repeatedly with a high energy blaster rifle. The flesh on his front side had been stripped away by the weapons fire, leaving nothing but a charred, bloody mess.

_There's more than one of them_, he realised. It was the only explanation – one man couldn't have overwhelmed his crew this easily. He motioned for the men following him to move in front; he had suddenly lost some of his appetite for battle.

As if to validate his new fear, a piercing scream echoed along the corridor towards them. It was a scream of terror at first, and then of agony. And then it was cut short by the sound of weapons fire. His team began to move towards where the sound had come from – it seemed as though it had come from the engineering section.

The doors were sealed when they got to them. One of the men moved to the control panel and readied himself to open it while the others stood either side of the doors, waiting for the right time to open fire. The men shared brief glances while the Admiral waited behind them – he knew that he was better off as far away from there as possible. Why had he even come down here? Was it just a surge of testosterone? Had his anger got the better of him?

Whatever had caused him to leap into danger, he regretted the decision. He began to back away, intending to head straight back up to the bridge – he could justify himself by arguing that him being there would interfere with the professionals that he was with. But before he could get two steps, the door to engineering were opened. He saw the group of men he was with rush into the room, and he heard the sound of intense weapons fire just around the corner from where he was.

He knew that he should have just continued backwards, towards the elevator, but his curiosity got the better of him. He inched his way towards the door and poked his head around. As he did so, a blast of energy from a rifle shot towards him, missing his head by no more than two inches and scorching the wall behind him. He didn't even flinch – the sight that had greeted him as he looked around the door had rendered him motionless.

He saw close to three dozen heavily armoured battle droids _massacring_ his crew members – they fought back valiantly, but their weapons didn't even make a dent in the droids' armour. There was no chance of them winning this battle.

One of the droids turned to face him – its red, electronic eyes seeming to narrow in hatred as it caught sight of him. The terror that he felt in that moment forced his legs to start moving again, and he ran as fast as he could towards to elevator. He reached it just as the droids began to emerge from the engineering section and turn towards him. Seconds after the elevator doors closed, he heard their blaster fire hit the other side of them.

His heart was pounding in his chest – he knew that he had come close to being killed. But the danger wasn't anywhere near passed. His ship had been invaded by a small droid army – droids that were seemingly more advanced than any he had encountered previously. And, to make matters worse, he knew that someone had to be in control of them. Someone who had also boarded his ship. And someone who he did not see in the massacre that he had just witnessed.

But if he wasn't on deck fifteen, then where was he?


	31. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Jani had had enough. The ship had spent the past twenty minutes violently shaking back and forth, throwing her and Elle off their feet repeatedly. She had heard explosions beneath her feet, and she had seen the force-field that contained her flicker repeatedly, though it still held. The time had come, she decided, for her to escape.

She allowed her eyes to pass over the room, looking for the controls to release her from her prison. The most likely candidate was the control panel nearest the door. She closed her eyes and reached out with the force. She left her body behind, watching it shrink away as she moved further away from herself. Then she allowed herself to float across the room, pausing briefly to look into Elle's cell – she was stood watching Jani suspiciously, and Jani allowed herself a moment of delight in the knowledge that she would soon have the opportunity to leave Elle rotting in an Alliance cell, and never have to listen to her whining again.

But first she had to escape. She drifted away from the cells, towards the control panel at the door. The further away from her physical body she got, the more difficult it became to see clearly. When she reached the controls they appeared as little more than a blur. But she could still tell which one was the release button – all control panels were the same.

She reached out with the Force, towards the button. As she did so, her physical hand moved upwards in synch with her mind. She felt it touch the cold metal of the control panel, and she felt the smoothness of it as she moved her hand slowly upwards towards the release button. She was having to concentrate extremely hard – sweat had begun to pour down her forehead, and a piercing pain had sprung up in her head.

She pushed down on the button with all of her strength, causing blood to drip from her nose. It took what seemed like an eternity, but eventually the button started to compress, and she heard the satisfying _click_ that indicated that the release had been activated.

She allowed herself to drift back into her physical body, and she fell to the floor, drained of all energy. She breathed heavily, allowing herself these brief few seconds to catch her breath. This ship was under attack, and she could _feel_ that it was him. He'd found her, and she knew he would. But was he here for her or for Marc? How much did he know?

"Hey!" A shrieking voice pierced through her thoughts. It was Elle, screaming at her to open her cell. Jani grinned; an evil grin that chilled Elle to the bone. She stood, using the wall at first to steady herself. She took a brief moment to compose herself, and then she walked slowly, menacingly towards Elle. She stopped inched from the invisible barrier that sealed Elle in her cell, and she simply looked at her, the grin fixed on her face.

Neither of them said a word, but Elle realised what was going on in Jani's mind. She had no intention of helping Elle escape. She would leave her here, and take Marc for herself. Elle realised then that Jani had never cared about any of them. All she wanted was Marc; a tool that would allow her to claim the weapon that she so clearly desired. All of the _concern_ that she had shown for him, all of the help that she had offered, all of the compassion that she had shown towards him; it was all meant to make him like her. To make him love her, so that he would do anything that she asked of him.

Elle backed away from Jani and sat down on the bed in her cell, completely deflated. Jani continued to grin, and she backed away herself, and she turned and walked through the door, leaving Elle alone in her cell.

* * *

The Dark Jedi strode along the corridors of the ship, barely even noticed by the panicking crew. Those who did question his presence were dealt with quickly – some could be tricked into forgetting, others whose minds were stronger had to be dealt with more… permanently.

He could sense Jani's presence several decks below him, but he had no interest in her. Not anymore. He was here for the boy and the boy alone. With him he would be able to claim his prize.

He reached the medical bay just as another explosion rocked the ship. While others around him scampered in panic, be strode on with a singular purpose, past the white doors which marked the entrance to the medical bay and towards a sealed off corner of the room. a white curtain had been pulled closed around something. The Dark Jedi knew that he would find the boy behind the curtain, and the excitement he felt in that moment was beyond anything he had ever felt before. His heart felt as though it was going to burst through his chest, and it was beating so fast…

He reached his hand out slowly toward the curtain… he was going to savour this moment – his moment of victory. His fist closed, grabbing a piece of the curtain, and he pulled it to his left. The boy was revealed slowly; his feet first; pale skinned and small, for a boy. The wound in his stomach had been bandaged; the bandages weren't needed, as their equipment had all but healed the wound itself. His chest was bare, rising up and down as he breathed slowly – making a quiet whistling sound as he did so.

Finally his face was revealed. His hair was light, his features soft. The Dark Jedi reached out and touched his hair; the slightest of touches, as though he feared that touching him would break him.

_Yes_, he thought. He leaned in closer to Marc's unconscious frame, and he breathed in his scent. _This is the boy that I've been looking for. How could I not sense it before?_

It was true… Jani had realised the first time she had seen him. Marc gave off a kind of energy, pulsating in synch with the orb fragment. Any Force sensitive would have been able to sense it, but not all would know how significant it was.

The Jedi looked Marc up and down, assessing his condition. He knew that the wound had been treated as best it could be. How sedated was he? He couldn't risk moving him until he knew; otherwise he could wake up at any moment and distract him. To be safe, he moved over to a glass cabinet at the corner of the room and took out a measure of sedative; enough to knock the average human out for several hours. He injected it into Marc's upper arm.

Then he lifted Marc off his bed and slung him over his left shoulder.

His ship had been damaged beyond repair when he rammed his way through the _Endor's _hull, so he knew that he would have to find an alternative ship with which to make his escape. With that in mind, he headed towards the docking bay, though he knew that would lead him straight through the middle of the battle that was still raging between his droids and the crew of the Endor.

It didn't matter; he still held the control for the droids in his satchel, and as long as he had that they would protect him if he needed it.

As he moved closer to the battle the screams of the dying crew members grew louder and shriller. Soon he began to see dead bodies lining the floor – some of them little more than burning flesh, some still alive, screaming in agony. As he walked he thought about the destruction and suffering he had caused, and he felt great regret. He had coped by telling himself that he had no choice, but was that really true? Could he have turned back if he'd really wanted to?

The truth, he suspected, was that he lusted for power. He knew that the chances of him ever gaining that power were infinitesimal – the weapon would never glow for him – but a part of him still clung to that burning desire. And that was why he could never stop.

The battle had reached the doors of the hangar bay; they were surrounded by dozens of droids and dozens more crew members fighting to get past them, desperate to reach the remaining shuttles inside the hangar. It seemed that the escape pods had already been used, and yet there were still hundreds of people left on board. The walls directly adjacent to the hangar bay were drenched in blood, and scarred with the burns of blaster fire.

He stopped and observed; he knew that he could walk through the middle of the crowd and most likely he would not be touched – the droids wouldn't hurt him, and the crew were too overwhelmed by what was happening to notice him in the middle of them. But still, he stopped and observed.

The surviving members of the crew were huddled just around the corner before the hangar bay, the door of which had been damaged so that it would not close. The droids – save for a few which were scattered around other parts of the ship – were all concentrated inside the hangar bay. He watched as a young woman made a mad dash towards one of the remaining ships, even though she had no chance of reaching it. Sure enough, she was cut down before she had gotten five steps, her scream piercing all the way along that deck.

The Dark Jedi flinched as he heard it. He'd spent long enough on this ship, he decided. He stood and walked slowly towards the cowering crew, barely glancing at them as he walked by. The droids turned to face him with weapons raised, but lowered then as soon as they detected the control device in his satchel.

The hangar bay was a mess – large parts of the walls and ceilings had been ripped away by gunfire. Only two of the ships that remained looked even remotely salvageable. He headed towards one of them – the one that, after a brief glance, looked the least damaged.

Then a feeling hit him – something that he had felt since he approached the ship, but which had suddenly grown in intensity. It was Jani.

He turned around and he saw her across the room – it looked as though she had used her light-sabre to cut her way through the wall, evading the droids. The look on her face pierced through to his soul; hatred, anger, disgust. They were feelings that he sometimes felt about her – she had been the one to fire first, after all – but in that moment he found himself regretting the decisions that had pulled them apart. Perhaps if they had worked together their goals might have been reached by now.

But deep down he knew that had never been possible – the orb had penetrated both of their minds, but while she chose to deny the influence it was having and the messages it was conveying, he had no choice but to accept them. Their lives were no longer their own.

She began to move towards him – quickly, purposefully. He looked at her one last time and then he turned his back on her, raising the boarding ramp as he did so.

* * *

Jani watched as the man she so despised boarded his new ship with Marc, powerless to stop him. She cursed herself for being so slow; if she'd got there just seconds earlier she might have been able to stop him leaving. A burst of gunfire passed close to her head, and she remembered where she was. Her recklessly running out into the centre of the hangar bay had caught the attention of the group of battle droids that she had put so much effort into evading.

She quickly extended her light-sabre, using it to deflect more incoming fire. The droids were advancing on her, and would be upon her in a matter of seconds; she could only deflect so many shots, and she would struggle to do that and fight them off at the same time.

But she had gone to the hangar bay for exactly that reason. There was one remaining functioning ship, and she quickly headed towards it.

She would follow him… into the depths of hell, if she had to. There was no other choice.


	32. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Marc's eyes flickered – the slightest of movements; so slight that even if you were looking at him you would have struggled to see it. But it did not go unnoticed.

The Dark Jedi had lowered Marc's unconscious body into one of the co-pilot chairs while he had manoeuvred his new ship away from the Endor and into hyperspace. Though his focus had stayed on navigating his way through the dense maze of hyperspace he still kept one eye on Marc, waiting patiently for him to wake up.

He found himself excited; giddy like a child. Sitting behind him was the one with the power to end his nightmare and his suffering. And he had so much to tell him, so much to talk about, that he didn't know where he would begin. He had to fight the urge to walk over to him and force him to wake up – he knew that with the amount of sedative he had injected him with, waking him up too soon could cause damage to his mind.

So he had waited.

The flickering of Marc's eyelids was a sign that his wait might have been coming to an end, but a frustrating few minutes of nothing followed. He was beginning to get impatient; he switched the ship to autopilot and walked over to where Marc sat.

He looked at him, as he had done in the Endor's medical bay. This time, however, he had the opportunity to take his time and analyse what he was seeing. He looked at the boy's face; most of his skin was smooth, save for three scars down his left cheek. This boy had been through the wars, it seemed. He found himself wondering about him; how he lived on Socorro, what were his parents like, who were his friends. It seemed like a way of recapturing his own humanity – humanity which had been taken away from his by the orb.

He reached out his hand and stroked Marc's cheek gently. This boy was his life now. Everything he had done had led him to this, and he would fulfil the mission that had been forced upon him.

He thought about the orb. In truth, he had not stopped thinking about it since the day he felt it shine. When the boy had made it glow it had reached out to the nearest Force sensitives – him and Jani – and ensnared them. It had engulfed their minds – both of them – and now they were just slaves to it. He wondered if Jani could hear what it said as he did, if she knew why she was so desperate to get this boy to the second fragment. Her actions suggested that she did not; that she continued to tell herself that she would claim the _weapon_ for herself.

He sympathised; that was exactly what he had though at first. When they had descended on Socorro, and when they had betrayed one another, his mind was filled with thoughts of claiming the power that he had felt for himself. As he had destroyed that village – slaughtered those people – and tortured the other boy's – Sar's – mother, he had done it out of greed.

But the long journey past the Outer Rim had given the orb fragment that he had taken time to eat away at him. To engulf him completely, and to show him exactly what he was – a tool, nothing more.

He realised that he had been stroking Marc's cheek for more than a minute, and he stopped. He sat down in a chair in front of Marc and watched him intently. He wondered what he was dreaming about; had the orb already made contact with him? If not, it was only a matter of time. Once he realised what it – and he – was he would have no choice but to listen. He laughed bitterly – he wanted so much to see the culmination of his struggles, to see Marc accept what he was. But he would be dead by then – he would die gladly, knowing that his suffering was not in vain.

Marc's eyes flickered again, more violently this time. He was dreaming. The Dark Jedi wondered what about.

* * *

_Marc was home. The mountains of Socorro, at midnight. He was at the perch that he and Sar had visited so many times, where he had learned the stars and dreamed of seeing them. _

_It was nearly three weeks ago. He had just told Sar that he was planning to leave the village. He knew that Sar would be upset, and he already regretted saying it. He remembered it happening._

_But Sar did not seem upset. He seemed angry. His eyes were black – Marc thought that if he looked at them for too long he would fall into them, be swallowed up by them and never be able to climb out. When Sar spoke his voice was bitter, angry. _

"_Good!" he yelled. "Leave quickly. Quickly, before I die again!"_

_Marc was frightened by his friend. "Die", he asked, his voice wavering. "But you're not dead". Even as he said the words, he knew that they weren't true. His friend was dead. They were no longer on Socorro, but outside a broken temple far away. He was surrounded by black ash and red lava, but he felt cold. _

_The body of his friend lay mangled at his feet, his head smashed and his face broken. Though he couldn't make out any of his features – his face had been too badly beaten for that – he could still feel those black eyes staring at him – hateful, accusing. This was his fault._

_As he looked at Sar he suddenly realised that the ground beneath him and the sky above him were changing. They were no longer black ash or thick air. They became smoother, and purple. He recognised that purple._

_He turned and tried to run, but all around him as far as he could see was the same. He saw the edges, and they began to close in around him. The orb was engulfing him, surrounding him, suffocating him. And it felt so familiar._

_He screamed._

* * *

The Dark Jedi jumped violently in surprise as Marc suddenly awoke screaming. He had not been strapped down, and Marc's hands shot out towards him, wrapping themselves around his neck. They closed tighter and tighter, but the Dark Jedi did not struggle or fight Marc in any way. If this is what it took for him to realise, he thought, then so be it. He looked into Marc's eyes and saw that his mind was not on the ship with them – it was still lost in his dreams, billions of miles away. He wondered what he could be experiencing that would bring him such anger.

But moments later Marc's eyes flickered and his mind woke up. It took a split second for him to realise what he was doing – his hands went limp and his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. He slumped back into the chair that he had sprung out of moments earlier

They sat and stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime. Marc was still struggling with what he had dreamed about – the images were still so vivid in his mind, which startled him somewhat as his dreams always began to fade as soon as he woke. This didn't feel like a dream; it felt like the truth, and it was etched into his mind now. Why had the purple seemed so familiar? So… _comforting_?

He noticed the Dark Jedi – seemingly the first time he had realised who he was with. Instead of fear over what was happening, or anger for what the Dark Jedi had done to his home, he filled with a strange kind of calm. This was right, he realised. This was where he should be.

"What's happened?" he asked.

The Dark Jedi, who had been sat back in his chair, leaned forward and considered the question. "I'm taking you home", he said.

Marc didn't understand what that meant, exactly, but he nodded anyway. "And…" he started, then he stopped and gulped. "Sar is dead?"

The Dark Jedi nodded solemnly, as though the thought of Sar's death upset him greatly.

Marc simply nodded. He knew that his dreams had spoken the truth, but the news didn't impact him like he thought it would. He didn't feel sad, or angry. He just felt numb – Sar was just one more life lost on a list of billions. Trillions.

_Everybody dies_, he thought. _Not everybody lives._

He looked around the bridge of the ship that he was on for the first time – it was bright, clean and new. The controls were dotted with flashing lights and bright switches. None of it interested him as it might have done before, and part of him wondered why.

_Because you know you're meant for more_, came the strange voice in his head – the same voice that had warned him of Jani's lies. It was no longer unfamiliar.

_Who are you?_ his own voice asked in his head.

_You already know the answer to that question_, came the reply.

It was true. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them his head had turned to face the orb fragment which lay on the front console.

He wanted so much to walk over and touch it. He could feel it working its way into his mind even now, and he knew that the wonderful sensation he felt now would multiply when he touched it. But there was one more question he needed to ask. A question that had formed in his mind as soon as he had seen the face of the man that he had been chasing – seen his blue skin and his soft eyes.

"You're Gabe?" he asked, though he knew that answer.

The Dark Jedi's eyes widened slightly, more in amusement than in surprise, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards slightly. He nodded slowly. "I didn't think she would have talked about me", he said. He leaned back once more in his chair. "Yes. I'm Gabe".

Marc nodded. "She only spoke of you when I asked", he said, breathily. "She said you were dead".

"She was right", Gabe replied, still smiling, though it had twisted into one of bitterness. Marc didn't reply, and Gabe realised that he was waiting for him to tell his story.

"We were lovers", he said. "For a long time we thought we were destined to be together. We always had a kind of… connection. It's called a Force connection, and it's usually shared between people who have a joint purpose. Wherever we are in the Universe, we can sense each other and find each other. That's how I located you.

"We first met more than ten years ago. We had both been Jedi for years, but had never met. It was on Coruscant, at an Alliance party. This was before the Grey Order had formed a splinter group, and the Jedi were still officially neutral. That didn't sit well with me or Jani.

"God, she was beautiful. She was wearing this stunning red dress… I'd never seen anything as beautiful as her". He smiled warmly at the memory, and for the first time Marc saw him as a person rather than a monster. But his smile quickly faded. "We spent a long time together, but we were never really in love. We just wanted to feel the thrill of it – Jedi are not allowed to fall in love. Love leads to fear, they say, and fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate and hate leads to the Dark Side.

"The last time I saw her in person was on the _Endor_. We had boarded the ship, meaning to capture it and put it to use for the Rebel cause. But the whole thing turned into a trap. We were ambushed as soon as we got onto the bridge – soldiers and Jedi were waiting for us. As the battle raged on outside between the Rebel and Alliance fleets all we could do was watch.

"We were held in cells for about a week before we managed to escape – one of our guards was taken ill, and the man they chose to replace him had… a weaker mind. We stole two fighters and made our escape.

"We didn't get far. When you made the orb fragment react it sent a shockwave through the Galaxy – maybe even further. We were the closest Force sensitives at the time, and so the fragment chose to use us as its tools. We were led to Socorro, though all we knew at the time was the sheer power of the thing that was calling us. We both lusted after that power, but I was willing to share. Jani wasn't. She opened fire on me just outside Socorro's atmosphere, and from there we spiralled down, trying to destroy each other. I managed to land a few critical hits and her ship went down in flames.

"And that, I think, is where you found her. While I headed toward your village she was lying unconscious in the wreckage of her ship".

Marc nodded. The rest he knew. Gabe had destroyed the village, kidnapped Sar and taken the orb fragment. They had followed him. Looking back, he knew that he could always sense Jani's desire to get the orb fragment – she wasn't interested in helping them rescue Sar. But he was too blinded by his lust for her and his reverence of the Jedi that he chose to ignore his instincts. But if Jani had not been shot down over Socorro, he thought, she would have destroyed the village and taken the orb the same as Gabe did. Of that he had no doubt.

He realised that he had been staring at the orb fragment almost the whole time Gabe had been talking – a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the Dark Jedi. He smiled, glanced at the fragment and back at Marc. "Why don't you go to it?" he asked. "It's what it wants, and I can tell by your eyes that it's what you want as well".

It was true. The desire to touch the fragment hadn't dwindled – if anything, he wanted it more and more with every second. But he was determined to resist, at least for a while. Not until he'd got all the answers that he was seeking. He still knew next to nothing about the orb.

He nodded towards the fragment. "What is it?" he asked. "I mean, really. Jani said that it was an ancient weapon, but her story was full of holes".

Gabe laughed out loud at that. "An ancient weapon?" he asked through the laughter. "Really? I wonder if she actually believes that. No, that's not true".

"Then…" Marc started. "Where did it come from? How old is it?"

Gabe hesitated. Marc didn't understand his sudden reluctance to answer, but the truth was that Gabe didn't want to tell Marc. The answers to his questions would change his life completely, and Garin wasn't sure he was ready yet. "How old are you?" he asked.

Marc didn't see how that was relevant, but he answered anyway. "Fifteen", he said.

"Then I'd say the orb has existed for about sixteen years". With that, Gabe folded his arms and looked away, clearly unwilling to answer any more questions. "Now stop stalling. You want to touch the fragment, and the fragment wants you to touch it. So do it".

Marc couldn't resist the urge anymore. He stood up slowly and walked over towards the fragment which had been lying still on the front console since before Marc had woken up. He looked at Gabe as he walked past him, suddenly convinced that he would jump up and stop him from touching it at the last minute as some kind of sick torture. But he didn't – he just stared at him, the anticipation covering his face.

He stopped next to the console. His hands fidgeted for several seconds before he reached out his left hand towards the fragment. When it got to about five inches away, the fragment began to glow a dull purple. Marc could feel the power emitting from it – there was no doubt that this was something beyond anything he had ever seen – but there was another feeling brimming underneath. Something warm, comforting – as though this was home, this was where he was meant to be. The thought made him uncomfortable, even a little nervous. He knew that he was about to find out answers to questions that he might never have wanted to know the answers to, and it frightened him.

But his hand didn't stop. He didn't think it would have even if he had wanted it to – the fragment was in his mind now, and he could hear its voice in his head.

The tip of his middle finger touched the side of the orb, and it suddenly emitted a blinding purple flash.

Marc collapsed onto the ground, his eyes rolled up into his head. He began to convulse violently, which Gabe had not expected. He quickly knelt down beside Marc's body, put his hand on his chest and tried to stop him from thrashing. His mind was racing. Had something gone wrong? He thought that Marc was _meant_ to touch the orb. That they would join together, and everything would become clear.

* * *

Marc had begun to froth at the mouth, and a strange whining sound escaped from between his lips. He was clearly in pain, and Gabe didn't know what to do.


	33. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

_Marc was floating. A vast ocean passed by far beneath him, and stretched out as far as he could see. Though he could feel the wind through his hair and the pull of gravity on his body, he was not frightened. He knew that this was _right_. This was _truth_. And he could never be afraid of it._

_He saw an island in the distance, coming closer and closer. It was covered in a large forest, the green trees stretching high into the sky. For a moment he thought that he was going to fly straight into them, but at the last second his body rose even further into the sky and he floated over the tops of the trees._

_For hundreds of miles the tree were all he saw – they were so dense that he could see no sign of the ground, or any civilisation. _

_But suddenly the trees cleared, and Marc's flight began to slow. He was over a large building – something which looked much like a temple, but made of shining metal. He circled around above it several times before slowly lowering to the ground. As he got lower and lower he realised just how vast the construction was – it seemed to stretch for miles both across and upwards. What kind of species could build such a thing, he wondered. _

_Eventually his feet touched the ground and he was back in control of his own movement again. He looked around – he couldn't see around the sides of the building, but the parts that he could see were completely surrounded by the forest. There was no path that he could see, so how did the builders of this building get to and from this place?_

_He saw a massive door in front of him – perhaps thirty feet high. He walked towards it, although he was sure that he would not be strong enough to open them. To his surprise, the doors swung slowly open as he walked towards them, revealing a white light inside that blinded Marc until his eyes could adjust. The light engulfed him as he entered into a vast room. The walls, ceiling and floor were all covered in the same white that had engulfed Marc. There were machines scattered around – machines that Marc had never seen, and did not know the purpose of._

_But the machines were not what interested him. There were… beings in the room. A species that Marc had never seen or heard of before. They were vast – Marc guessed that they were maybe twenty feet high and just as wide. They were red or sometimes a dull orange, with four vast tentacles stretching out at all side. He could not see any eyes, but he knew that they could see somehow – some were working with the machines. _

_The most striking thing about them was that they didn't appear to touch the ground – they floated regally around the room, even though the atmosphere was just as thin as any other planet._

"_What are they?" he asked to no one._

"_Architects", a voice answered. The unexpected sound did not surprise Marc, nor did the identity of the person speaking. Marc glanced to his left and saw his older brother standing beside him. He didn't wonder why or how, he simply accepted it as truth._

"_Architects…" Marc repeated._

_His brother nodded. "Or Celestials", he said, his voice so soft that Marc had to strain his ears to hear it. "We're looking at events which happened over a hundred thousand years ago. Events that have long since been lost to time. We are witnessing the birth of the force."_

_Marc glanced at his brother. The birth of the Force? Marc had always understood that the Force had been ever-present._

"_No", his brother responded, reading Marc's thoughts. "And yes… I suppose. It was the Celestials who made it possible for the Force and your reality to interact… for one to influence the other. Before this, they were separated by a wall of space and time. What we are witnessing is the Celestials forcing a crack in that wall, allowing the two separate realities to flow into one another"._

_As his brother had been speaking, one of the Celestials had moved over to the largest machine at the centre of the room and activated it. The Celestial emitted a low, loud sound, which Marc knew was its voice. The others did the same, as though they were crying out in victory. The machine began to send out a low hum which grew louder and louder as the seconds passed._

"_They were looking for power", his brother said. Even though the sound of the Celestials crying out and the sound of the machine were close to deafening he had no trouble hearing him. "They didn't understand what they were doing, or how much it would change everything that would happen from this moment onwards"._

_Marc saw a purple light above the machine – tiny at first, but growing bigger. Its appearance was accompanied by a loud cracking sound, as though the very fabric of space had been shattered. Marc looked towards the Celestials, but none of them were paying any heed to the purple light – could they even see it?_

_And then everything burst into flames._

_Suddenly Marc was torn away from that place, and flung hundreds of millennia into the future – the sensation was painful beyond belief, and Marc let out a loud scream, and passed out._

_When he opened his eyes he was still engulfed in flames. He looked at his hands, and they were on fire. He screamed again before he realised that he could feel no pain, or heat._

_His brother was once again beside him. "Where are we now?" Marc asked._

"_This is five years into the future", his brother replied. "The Universe is on fire"._

_At first Marc couldn't grasp what he was being told – how could the Universe be on fire? It wasn't possible. But as though something was sensing his doubt, his mind was suddenly opened up to the entire Universe. He saw trillions of planets, countless life-forms, all screaming and all burning. Everything was dying._

"_Everything will be gone in less than a week", his brother continued. His emotionless voice angered Marc, but he didn't speak yet. "This is what will happen if you allow it to"._

_Marc turned and faced his brother directly. "Me?" Marc said, surprised. "How can I stop _this?_This is beyond me"._

_His brother smiled – a smile that unnerved Marc. "This is what you were born for"._

_His vision shifted again. He saw Socorro beneath his feet – the mountains that he had spent so much time in. He could see no sign of his brother, but in the wind he could hear a baby crying. He moved toward the sound. It led him to a familiar cave – the cave in which he, Sar and Elle had first found the fragment. He stopped at the entrance. The sound of crying was coming closer._

_His brother emerged from the cave carrying a naked, crying baby. This was his real brother, he knew, not the vision that he had seen before. He was younger – maybe fifteen years old. He looked at the baby and he knew that it was him._

_He followed his brother down the side of the mountain towards his family ranch. He entered the building and Marc followed. His mother emerged from her bedroom, rubbing her tired eyes. She had been woken by the sound of the crying child._

"_What..?" she began, before she caught sight of the baby in her son's arms._

_His brother looked up at her, his eyes wide. "I found him in the mountains", he said innocently. "He was just lying there, crying. We need to take care of him"._

_Marc realised then… his parents had never really been his parents. He came from the cave; his brother found him there and carried him home. Now he could understand why his father was so distant, and aggressive towards him. His own son… his real son had died, and he was left with a child that he had never wanted._

_He suddenly wanted to escape… the visions were too much… too painful. But the visions did not end there._

_Eyes opened. Marc knew that they were not his own eyes, even though he was seeing through them. He had no control over the body that they belonged to._

_He saw his father looking down at him, his clothes covered in blood. He sat up and looked around – his mother was stood in the corner, nervously looking at him. He looked around, and for an instant he caught sight of himself in a mirror. He was in the body of Jani, when she had awoken in his parent's home on Socorro, as Gabe was attacking the village._

_His father began to speak to her. "You're still injured", he said, gruffly; Marc could tell that he did not care. "You should rest"._

_Marc felt a sudden anger fill Jani's head. He couldn't understand where it had come from, but it engulfed her – and him. She grabbed her satchel which had been left on the floor beside her and fished out her light-sabre. She extended it and, without mercy, she began to cut away at Marc's father. He screamed as she did so, her weapon cutting through his flesh – she didn't kill him quickly, instead she cut away chunks of his skin. _

_His mother was screaming, and Jani turned towards her. She rushed over to her and grabbed her by the hair. She turned her face towards her and lifted her light sabre. She pushed the blade into his mother's face, ignoring her screams, and burnt out her eyes. _

_Marc realised for that Jani had been screeching in rage the whole time. He heard Jani's voice in his head. _No one else,_she thought. _No one else will have my prize_. And then she left. She left Marc's mother and father crumpled on the floor – they would bleed to death soon, and die in agony._

* * *

Marc awoke on the Dark Jedi's ship, screaming. He stood up quickly, thrashing around. What he had seen had made him furious… he wanted nothing more than to kill Jani. But she was far away, he knew, and he had more important things to think about. He took a moment to wonder how strange it was that he did not doubt the truth of what he had seen, even for a moment.

Gabe was sat staring at him, and Marc turned to face him.

"Take me to the second fragment", he said, his voice filled with a new-found confidence and authority. Gabe nodded, and moved back to the ships controls.


	34. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

After separating from Jani, Marc and Elle, the Raven had travelled towards Corellia. Though its moons had been developed extensively in recent decades, to the point that they rivalled any other planet in terms of comfort and lifestyle, the surface of Corellia had remained constant. It was dominated by rolling hills and lush farmland. So picturesque was the surface that the Alliance had recently declared much of it a protected land, and outlawed further industrial or residential development.

The towns and villages scattered about the surface were much as they had been for centuries – much of the population – which consisted mostly of humans – chose to become construction workers on one of the dozens of construction yards which had been put into orbit around the planet. Those who wished to remain on the surface became farmers; an occupation which had become more difficult since the land had become protected.

Beneath the surface, however, was a different matter. Long ago, a species known as Selonians had emigrated to Corellia from their home world had constructed a vast network of tunnels below the surface. These tunnels, unknown to the Alliance, were a bustling metropolis, filled with travellers from a hundred worlds. It existed outside of the law, and, as a result, was used most often by thieves and smugglers, or by people looking to escape from something.

It was these tunnels that Garr had piloted the Raven towards, landing close to one of the many entrances. They were there to conclude their business – business that had begun several weeks earlier, and which had taken them to the far reaches of the Galaxy, to Socorro and Dantooine, and had forced them to make such difficult decisions.

They were to meet their contact at the closest underground cantina. They waited there, patiently, but their contact was late.

"I mean, why does everyone have to be on one side or the other?" Garr had perched himself at the bar, leaving Batalla alone at their table. He was very drunk. The droid behind the bar was listening to him – it was part of his programming to listen to people's problems – but it didn't have the slightest interest.

"Now me", he continued. "I was in the Alliance, and look where that got me. Murdering children. That's not war, that's just lunacy". He took another long swig from the glass in front of him – which was half full of a strange, fluorescent pink liquid – before continuing again. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of the Rebels either. They probably do things just as bad. It just doesn't make sense. How can anyone think that this is going to make people's lives better?"

The droid simply nodded, indicating that it was listening without participating in the conversation. The man stood next to Garr at the bar turned to face him. His eyes were drooping – this man was clearly just as drunk as Garr. "Thash right!" he said, loudly. He was slurring his words. "The Rebelsh should just give it up. At leasht that way there'd be no more… no more…"

The man looked confused for a moment, as though he had lost his train of thought. Garr waited for a couple of seconds for him to find it again, but things did not look promising.

"No more what?" he prompted.

The man looked at him in surprise, as though he didn't remember seeing him before. "What? he grumbled. "What you shay?"

Garr counted to ten under his breath before answering. "You said that the Rebels should just give it up, because at least there'd be no more… and then you stopped", he said. "So no more what?"

The man's eyes widened in sudden revelation. "Oh!" he yelled. "Thash right, I remember. No more killing. Thash what I wash going to shay".

Garr nodded. He'd heard people say that before – that they wished the war was over because then there'd be no more killing. Mostly drunks like this man. It was a stupid idea, he thought. There would always be killing. Always people out there willing to make another person's life a misery just to get what they wanted. The killing didn't start when the war did and it won't stop when it ends. It will never stop.

His mind suddenly began to think about Elle… and Marc. The first time it had done so since they had separated – Garr knew that he was just trying to suppress it. Had he done the same thing to them? Had he ruined their lives just so that he could get what he wanted?

He looked at what was left of the drink in front of him. Suddenly it didn't seem so appealing. He pushed his stool back, stood up and made his way back to his table, where Batalla was waiting for him.

They sat opposite each other for a while. Garr's head was filled with doubt – he doubted himself, which was something that had never happened before. He'd always been so sure of himself… of what he was doing. He was working toward something great, wasn't he? Wasn't that worth a few casualties along the way?

He looked at his companion. Her face was a mixture of concern and… was that disappointment in her eyes? Or was he just imagining things? He knew that she could tell what he was thinking – she was a telepath after all – but he also wondered what she was thinking. While she could read him – read anyone – without even trying, she had always been like a closed book to him, and he was frustrated.

He knew what was really bothering him. It wasn't the war, and it definitely wasn't Batalla. He was regretting the decision to hand Elle and Marc over to the Alliance. Jani he could live without – plus, she was equipped to handle herself anyway. But they were just kids – kids who'd gotten caught up in things way beyond their control. He could have – _should _have – looked after them. Hell, he could have at least left them somewhere they stood a chance of surviving.

Suddenly – unexpectedly – Batalla leaned across the table and put her hand gently on top of his. He looked up and was swallowed in her wide, yellow eyes. She knew what he was thinking, and now he knew what she was thinking – exactly the same thing. But there was no accusation, no blame in her eyes. He moved his other hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve someone like her, but he was damn grateful she was here.

"So", he sighed. "What do we do now?"

Batalla stayed silent – as always – but she smiled sadly.

A man barged open the door, suddenly, surprising everyone inside. He was big, but the Wookie that trailed in after him was even bigger. Garr and Batalla knew them – they were their contacts.

_Crap_, Garr thought as the man caught sight of them in the corner. He wore a large brown coat which Garr knew concealed any number of vicious weapons. He strode over towards them while the wookie stayed at the door.

He stopped behind Garr. He and Batalla stared at each other – neither of them bothering to hide the hatred in their faces. "Time to go", the man growled.

* * *

They were lead out of the bar and into the back alleys. The underground tunnels were not large by any stretch of the imagination, and they felt claustrophobic even in the widest of the streets. In those alleyways, Garr felt as though the walls of the buildings were closing in on him.

It didn't help that he was considering doing something extremely dangerous – some would probably call it suicidal. As he stared upwards at the back of the man's head as he followed him, he began thinking to himself.

_It's a stupid idea_, he told himself. _Just… stick with the plan, okay? Everything will be fine._

_But everything isn't fine, is it? _Another voice this time, but still his own. _My insides feel like they're trying to claw their way out of my mouth. I've never felt like this before._

_It's called guilt_. This voice was different, but not entirely unexpected. It was Batalla's. It wasn't really a voice – it was a projection of her thoughts into his head. It was the only way she spoke with him, but even this she did rarely.

He turned his head slightly, glancing back at her – she was following two steps behind, to his left. Her eyes didn't reveal anything – she stared straight ahead. The large, brown wookie followed closely behind her, weapon in hand, ready to react if they made any unexpected movements.

He looked upwards toward the black ceiling of the tunnels. He found the lack of sunlight disturbing – he always felt uncomfortable if he couldn't see the sky, as though it made him feel as though there was no escape. Like he was imprisoned there.

Guilt… he'd felt guilty lots of times. He'd never felt as bad as he had done since they'd landed on Corellia. He kept seeing Elle's face. The look of gratitude in her eyes when he'd gone to comfort her on Dantooine… when he'd promised her that she'd be safe…

God, it was too much. He shook his head, violently, trying to shake those thoughts out of his mind – the big man in front of him turned, wondering what he was doing, but he didn't say anything. He'd made up his mind what he was going to do, even though it would probably get them both killed. He hoped that Batalla would agree with him.

_I do_, her voice whispered in his head.

He smiled.

* * *

Garr and Batalla had been led into a night club on Corellia. They had pushed their way through the sweating, gyrating dancers to the back rooms, and had sat down in a small office. The lights had been dimmed, and the large man and his wookie companion stood behind them, guarding the exits.

But it was the man sat in front of them that worried them. Behind a massive wooden desk sat the man who was in charge – not just of this night club, but of practically all of the crime that happened in this sector. His name was Malla, and he was a Hutt. His massive green body stretched beyond the edges of his desk, and he stretched several feet above them – if Garr was stood up, Malla would still have been taller than him sitting down.

Garr hated him. He hated the way he looked down on everyone that he saw, and the way that he believed that he was better than them. But he envied him for the power that he held over everyone else, and he hated himself for it. It was him who had sent them after the Raven, and the information that it held in its memory banks. And when Malla asks you to do something you do not say no.

Of course, there were promises of payment – vast amounts of money which would have allowed Garr and Batalla to do pretty much whatever they wanted afterwards. But there was only maybe a fifty-fifty chance that Malla would live up to his end of the bargain – it was just as likely that he'd simply kill them both to save himself the money.

And now here they both were – sat in front of him, no way out, no choice but to hand over the Raven and the decoder that Batalla had acquired. But they had already decided that they weren't going to do that.

"You've done well", Malla said, his voice deep – almost a mumble, save for the loud volume of it. "Now hand over what you owe me".

Garr and Batalla looked at each other, and that look told Malla that they would not. Malla made eye contact with the man and the wookie behind the pair, wordlessly telling them to get themselves ready.

Garr scratched the back of his head and turned back to Malla. "See, here's the thing", he said. "We need to borrow the ship. Just for a while. It's the only one capable of getting where we want to go without being seen by the Alliance or the Rebels. I promise that we'll bring it back when we're done with it".

Malla looked at him silently for a while, and then he let out a loud laugh.

"Unacceptable", he said through the laughter. "Now I'll just take what I want, and you will both die".

Garr sighed. "Yeah", he said. "I figured you'd say something like that". Then he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of metal – as small as the tip of his finger – and he threw it at the ground. On impact it let out a loud bang, and the room filled with smoke.

Malla screamed at his two henchmen to kill Garr and Batalla, and he heard grunting and saw silhouettes move in the smoke. But when the smoke finally cleared it was not Garr and Batalla who were down, it was his henchmen who were unconscious. Garr and Batalla stood staring at Malla, and he could see no mercy in their eyes.

Garr slowly reached down and grabbed the gun from the holster of the unconscious man. He lifted it up, looking at is as though he didn't know what it was. Then, wordlessly, he pointed it at Malla and pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Three times. Malla was dead.

He looked at Batalla – he knew that she wouldn't approve of what he just did, but he didn't care.

* * *

"Let's go", he said, and the pair made their way back to the Raven.


	35. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Elle awoke from a dream of home. For one blissful moment she forgot all the things that had happened to her – the village, Marc, Jani abandoning her – and she was still on Socorro, lying in bed next to the man she loved, and she felt happy.

But in an instant the memories flooded back, and that feeling was gone – replaced by the familiar feeling of dread that had filled her stomach since she had left her home. She looked around at the now familiar grey walls and ceiling of her prison cell on board the_Endor_.

A man sat outside her cell, staring in at her. It was the Alliance Admiral – scarred from the intense battle he had just played a part in. His head rested in his hands, and his hands covered his mouth.

He stared at her for the longest time, seemingly trying to decide something.

_What does he want with me? _Elle thought. _Maybe he's just a pervert_.

Suddenly he moved. "Why are you here?" he asked.

Elle was caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice sounding small and scared. "You locked me in here".

The Admiral smiled – the first time she had seen his face in anything other than a scowl. He looked almost… friendly. "No", he said. "I mean… how did you get into this situation? Were you… what? Just following your boyfriend? Just swept up with the whole thing?"

It was true, Elle knew, but she wasn't about to admit it. She'd been caught up in everything that was happening, and now she was on her own in a prison cell on an Alliance cruiser.

The Admiral could see it in her eyes – the fear, the doubt. "You want to see him again?" he asked. "Your friend?"

Elle did, desperately. She needed to feel the comfort that Marc gave her, needed to feel the safety of being wrapped in his arms. She didn't answer, but her eyes revealed it to him.

"I'll take you to him", the Admiral said, leaning toward her. He smiled. "And all you need to do is convince him to do what I want when the time comes. Do we have a deal?"

Elle hesitated for the longest time. Then, finally, reluctantly, she nodded.

* * *

High above the distant planet, all was still – far removed from the turbulent surface below. The stars flickered in the blackness, much as they always had. They had no idea of the chaos that was about to erupt.

There was a familiar flicker in space, and Garin's stolen shuttle burst out of hyperspace. He had been travelling for several hours towards the planet, but he had dropped out of hyperspace several times along the way to monitor the space behind him. Though large cruisers could travel through hyperspace as well as smaller shuttles, the extra energy needed to push such a large object through the threshold caused the engine to overheat. As a consequence, large cruisers had to drop out of hyperspace every couple of hours to allow their engines to cool, or risk them becoming damaged by their own heat.

Garin thought that the Rebels would have followed him with at least one heavy cruiser after he had launched his attack on the base on Tatooine – he figured it would be Admiral Jordan who came after him, as he seemed the type to succumb to his anger quickest. But to make sure he had dropped out of hyperspace to scan the space behind him, and waited for signs that he was indeed being followed. He had to wait for over thirty minutes, but his scanners eventually detected ships following – two cruisers, which was more than he had expected. Admiral Connor must have come along as well, probably to try and talk Jordan out of blasting Garin out of the sky on sight.

Once he knew for definite that he would not be alone on the planet, he carried on none stop for the rest of the journey.

As soon as his ship entered orbit, he put it into autopilot and headed towards the escape pods. He would head down to the planet that way, and call his ship down with his communicator when – if – he managed to secure the orb. He couldn't risk bringing the ship down and it getting damaged in the chaos.

Seconds before he got to his escape pod he heard the ships alarms burst into a deafening wail. It was the proximity alert – but that wasn't right, was it? Based on how far behind the Rebel ships were when he saw them on his scanners, they couldn't have arrived this quickly. He considered heading back up to the bridge and checking the consoles up there, but he didn't have the luxury of time. He grunted and climbed into the tiny escape pod.

* * *

Elle stood on the bridge of the _Endor_. Since she had agreed – or at least pretended to agree - to help the alliance Admiral acquire the orb in exchange for her and Marc's safety, she had been treated well. She was still under armed guard, but she was no longer shackled or confined to a cell, and could see the progress the ship was making for herself.

And they had made much progress. After their conversation earlier, the Admiral had released her from her cell and escorted her to one of the crew quarters where she had been allowed to clean up. She was stressed and frightened, but she still savoured the first shower she had taken in over a week. It was bliss. They even gave her clean clothes, though they were labelled with the Alliance insignia, which she did not approve of.

Once she was clean and refreshed she was escorted up to the bridge. She arrived in the middle of a conversation between the Admiral and a cloaked man who was coming through a holographic communicator. The elevator doors opened in the middle of a sentence.

"- and I trust that you and your people will keep to the arrangements that we have made?" The Admiral glanced over at Elle as he spoke and motioned for her to come further onto the bridge.

The cloaked figure nodded, slowly and menacingly. He didn't even acknowledge Elle's presence. "The Jedi do not go back on their promises, Admiral", he said, his voice almost a growl – Elle thought that she sensed a great strain bubbling underneath, that the figure was trying hard to conceal.

"And the Greys?" the Admiral asked. "Our reconnaissance teams report that many of them have begun heading toward this planet as well".

"We will handle them", the figure said. "You handle the boy".

The Admiral looked over at Elle and smiled. "The boy is taken care of", he said menacingly, and ended the communication. He extended his hand towards Elle and motioned for her to move forward and stand next to him, which she did reluctantly. When she was next to him she could see more clearly out of the front viewscreen. They were above a red planet, which she did not recognise.

"Your boyfriend is down there", the Admiral told her. "And so is my prize". He put his hand on her head – Elle hated the touch of his hand, but she did not shake him off immediately. "You do your part", he continued, "and you both might make it out of this alive".

She shook her head to dislodge his hand, and stared back out of the view screen. _Marc…_ she thought. _I'm coming. Wait for me._

"Sir", one of the screw said, suddenly. "We're detecting a shuttle in orbit around the planet. It's a Rebel ship, sir. It appears to be alone".

The Admiral walked over to his command chair. He sat down, and then waved his hand dismissively. "Destroy it", he said, calmly. "And then prep a shuttle, and get a dozen men ready to escort myself and our guest down to the planet".

* * *

Barely a second after Garin's escape pod had cleared his ship, the weapons fire from the _Endor_ tore through it. The force of the explosion it caused sent the pod into a spin, but there didn't seem to be any serious damage and it righted itself shortly afterwards and continued down towards the planet's surface.

The spin had thrown Garin momentarily out of his chair and onto the cold floor. He stood quickly and rushed to look out of the window. _Shit_, his voice screamed in his head. _Shit, shit, shit._

It was the _Endor_, and it was flanked by a dozen smaller ships – he recognised them as Jedi ships, which was very bad news for him. But it was even worse news for the two Rebel cruisers that had been following him. He was suddenly racked with self-doubt about what he had done. The two cruisers on their own wouldn't stand a chance against all of these ships – the _Endor_ alone would prove tough opposition for them, but flanked by the Jedi ships they would stand no chance.

_I've killed them_, he thought. _Hundreds of men… men I've served with… men with families… and I've sentenced them to certain death._

He closed his eyes, tears seeping from each of them, as his escape pod continued down towards the planet below.


	36. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

A storm was brewing on the distant planet. Strong winds were lifting the black ash from the ground and whipping it up into an ash-storm. The hot air would scald a person's skin if they left themselves exposed to it for too long.

Jani did not care. She strode toward her target without concern for anything other than reaching her goal and taking what she believed belonged to her. The exposed parts of her skin were being assaulted by the ash – it rubbed away at it, like sand paper – but still she didn't seek shelter.

She made her way relentlessly through the black mountains, eventually emerging into the same canyon that had greeted Sar and the Dark Jedi. Its walls blocked out the wind and the flying ash, providing welcome relief. The ground was covered with purple flowers, which were almost hypnotic in their beauty. Jani was mesmerised momentarily – the endless purple seeming to engulf her – but then her eyes were drawn to the only imperfection in the sheet of purple.

She moved closer to it, and as she did so she realised what it was; it was flowers which had been trampled underfoot. The footprints were still fresh – perhaps thirty minutes old – but Jani knew that if she didn't hurry her prize would have already been claimed. She followed the trail around the curve of the canyon, not stopping even once.

She noticed a change in the path through the flowers that she was following. It had been quite wide – as though two people had been walking side by side – but as she got close to the temple it became narrower. Clearly, one of the people was no longer walking. Had Marc tried to fight back, and been carried the rest of the way?

The vast doors of the temple came slowly into view, and to Jani's… annoyance, if not her surprise, the doors had been left open. Part of her dismissed it as the Dark Jedi just being in too much of a hurry, but another part of her… a dark, paranoid part… was convinced that he'd left the door open to taunt her. They were screaming at her. _You're too late_, they screamed. _You've lost_.

She ground her teeth together and tried to drown out the voice. _I'll show you_, she thought. _I'll kill you_. She quickened her pace, passing through the doors quickly. Inside, the first thing she noticed was the mutilated corpse on the floor to her left. _Guess he lost his head_, she thought, and gave a vicious giggle. The next thing she noticed made her heart almost stop – the door in front of her was wide open. The door that had been locked for so long, that led to the second fragment.

She growled and rushed through the door, emerging into a vast cathedral – grey walls, wooden floor. It must have been a hundred yards long.

Gabe was in front of her, his massive hood still covering his face, and his light sabre was drawn. But Jani's eyes were drawn to what stood beside him. There was a tall pedestal – maybe three feet tall – and on top lie a small piece of what looked like glass. It was the second fragment, and it was glowing a bright purple.

Jani force her face to soften, and looked at Gabe. "Take down that hood", she said, smiling. "Let me look at your face".

Gabe made no movement for several seconds, but then his hands rose and slowly pulled down his hood. Jani analysed his face. His blue skin was much paler than she remembered, his eyes dark and baggy. He looked tired, she thought.

She walked slowly toward him, trying to keep her eyes on him and not the fragment. She needed to find out where the second fragment was, and then kill Gabe.

"Where's Marc", she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

Gabe smiled for the first time. When he spoke his voice was completely calm – so calm that it caught Jani off guard. "As if you ever cared", he said. "He was always just a tool for you… a way to get what you wanted".

Jani stopped walking and smiled. "That's true", she said. "But are you any different?"

"Maybe not at first". Gabe sighed and leant sideways onto the pedestal. Jani let out an involuntary sound – how could Gabe treat it so casually? "But my goals have changed", he continued. He looked directly at Jani and smiled. "The difference between us is that, no matter how much I lusted after the power of the orb, I was _always _willing to share it. When you opened fire on me above Socorro it broke my heart".

And that was her way in. She smiled, as sweetly as she could, and reached out her hand slowly towards him. Gabe flinched but didn't move away. "It broke my heart too", she said. "But I was… scared. I thought you'd never want to share the power, and I thought that you were going to kill me".

Gabe grunted laughter. "You've never been that insecure", he said harshly. "Even if I was going to kill you it wouldn't frighten you".

Jani's smile fell from her face, and her hand fell from his. "Fine", she said. "I wasn't scared. I was seizing my opportunity – as you should have done. Come on, Gabe! This thing has enough power to destroy planets! It's the embodiment of the Force – anyone who controls it can control everything! How could you not expect me to try and take it for myself? Anyone would have done the same".

"I didn't". Gabe's eyes were full of sorrow, accusing her.

Jani threw her hands up in exasperation. "Only because I didn't give you the chance"

Gabe didn't respond to that, but his eyes filled with pain. Jani knew that she had him… he was still in love with her. She walked over to him, put her hands at the back of his head and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss lasted what seemed like an eternity. When their lips finally separated Gabe's eyes were closed.

"OK", Jani breathed. "Let's share it".

Gabe looked into her eyes, and nodded.

Jani nodded back, encouragingly. "So where's Marc?" she asked. "Where's the other fragment".

Gabe indicated towards a far corner of the hall; a corner shrouded in shadow. Jani strained her eyes, and she could just barely make out a dim purple glow. It was the first fragment.

Jani rushed over to him and grabbed the fragment. She tried to drag it away from Marc, but he held it tightly.

"Let go, you bastard!" she screamed. Then she looked at him – at his face, and his eyes. The life had drained from him… she could tell that his mind was not in the room with them. But his fingers would not uncurl from around the fragment.

Gabe folded his arms and walked slowly over towards them. As he did he saw Jani try and fail to prise the fragment from between Marc's fingers. He heard her scream in frustration and reach for her light sabre.

Gabe smiled. "What are you going to do with that?" he asked.

Jani growled and looked at him, her eyes filled with rage that she wasn't even trying to hide anymore. "I'm going to cut his fucking hand off!" she screamed. "I want that fragment! I WANT IT!"

"I know you do", he said, soothingly. "But instead of taking the fragment from Marc why don't you just bring Marc over here?" He moved slowly over to where Marc was sitting and put his hands gently on his shoulders. He lifted him slowly, and as he did Marc's body moved with him. His eyes were unfocussed, and his mind was elsewhere, but still his body moved with Gabe's prompting.

Jani's eyes narrowed, but she followed silently behind them. They walked over to the second fragment, and as they got closer the two fragments started to pulse in synch with each other. The pulses got faster and faster as they got closer.

* * *

"Come on, girl, just a little farther".

Elle was being led through the mountains, flanked by a group of maybe a dozen Alliance soldiers. The Admiral was walking beside her.

They had left the Endor in the middle of the battle which raged above, taking a shuttle down to the planet. Elle had been dragged along to convince Marc to cooperate with the Alliance. But she had no intention of doing so. She knew that Jani would be there, and that she would fight to the death to get what she wanted. When that inevitable battle was taking place she would slip away, with Marc, and make her way back to the Alliance ship.

She had been keeping her head lowered, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. But when she saw the first purple flower she lifted her head, and let out an audible gasp at what she saw. The ground – for as far as she could see – was covered with purple flowers. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen – so beautiful that she forgot about the Admiral, and Jani, and even Marc. And she forgot about moving.

A hard shove from behind her forced her back to the here and now, and they continued walking.

They made it to the temple several minutes later, not stopping to admire the view. When they got past the doors Elle saw the body of her friend, and she let out a cry before a hand could cover her mouth and stifle the sound. They hurried to move to the sides of the still open door, not knowing whether the two Jedi beyond had heard Elle's cry.

They stood in silence for a long time, readying themselves to move. But they never got the chance. Gabe and Jani burst through the door, light sabres glowing bright in the dark. They sliced away at the Alliance soldiers, Jani's face was covered with a sickening smile – she was enjoying the slaughter.

Elle hurried into a corner – she didn't think either of the Jedi had seen her. While she was waiting – trying to filter out the screams of the soldiers – she couldn't help but let her eyes drift towards Sar's corpse. It had started to rot in the heat – she could smell the rancid flesh from across the room. Tears started to pour from her eyes. Rescuing Sar was the one thing that was good about what they were doing. Without that, what was the point in everything that she'd been through?

She realised that the screaming had stopped – it had stopped a long time ago. She peeked out from her hiding place, and she saw two figures standing over the dead bodies. It was Jani and the Dark Jedi, and Jani was still smiling.

Gabe looked at her. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked her. "You're slipping further and further away, you know. Just because you're seeking power doesn't mean you have to turn completely to darkness".

"Fuck you", Jani snarled. "I'll do what I want. Now let's get back to business".

* * *

The pair turned back towards the fragment, the Dark Jedi leading the way. Elle saw what happened clearly from where she was. Jani walked behind him. Just before they passed through the doorway, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife. She grabbed the Dark Jedi's shoulder violently and plunged the knife into his back. He fell through the doorway, Jani following menacingly after him.


	37. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Admiral Jordan sat silently on the bridge of the Rebel cruiser _Sholank_. The ship was a standard heavy cruiser – its armour would withstand bombardment for hours if needed, and its large weapons, while slow, would cause significant damage to any target. Though the _Sholank_ was not different to the majority of cruisers at the Rebel's disposal, it had become the de facto flagship for the Rebels. This was solely down to the fact that Jordan was in command.

The loyalty that he inspired in the people who served under him was unmatched – a fact which had made him many enemies, even amongst the Rebels. His brilliant tactical mind had earned him credit for many victories.

His only weakness was something that he might not even consider to be a weakness. He had a very short temper – a temper which had led him in the direction that he was heading now. After Garin had attacked the Rebel base on Tatooine, Jordan had not even hesitated before giving the order to pursue. He was furious, but he had also felt vindicated – he had sensed from the moment he saw him that Garin was hiding something, and in the instant that the first explosions rocked the base he knew for certain that Garin was an Alliance spy.

And now he would hunt him down and destroy him before he could reveal any tactical information about the Rebels.

At least, he used to be convinced of that. Shortly after they had left word reached them that there had been just a few minor injuries and zero fatalities as a result of Garin's attack. In fact, it seemed to Jordan that he had purposefully targeted areas which were unpopulated and housed no critical systems. It was definitely not the work of someone trying to cripple them – more the work of someone trying to provoke a reaction.

And that wasn't all. Jordan was having a hard time understanding _why_ Garin would risk coming back to the base. The Admiral had spent some of the journey reading his file – extensively reading it. Garin was a high ranking officer before his disappearance during the attack on the _Endor_, with high level security clearance. What could he possibly have learned in his short visit back to the Rebel base that he didn't know before? The pieces just weren't fitting together.

Jordan leaned to the console next to his chair and pressed several buttons. After a few moments, Admiral Connor's image appeared on the front view-screen.

When Connor had first insisted on joining the pursuit, Jordan was apprehensive – it was no secret that Connor and Garin were close friends, and Jordan suspected that he only wanted to come to try and prevent Jordan from killing Garin. But now… with these doubts surfacing in his head, he was glad that he had someone like Connor to talk to.

Connor's face filled the massive screen. "Admiral", he said as a greeting.

Jordan didn't speak for several moments. He simply sat in his command chair, with his chin resting on his hands and his hands covering his mouth. Eventually he moved. "What do you think is going on here?" he asked, bluntly.

Connor's face twisted in genuine confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Jordan smiled faintly. "I'm having second thoughts", he said, and wasn't surprised when he saw the relieved expression on Connor's face. "Don't get me wrong", he added quickly. "I still want to see Lieutenant Garin punished severely for his actions. But I don't think he was an Alliance spy – it simply doesn't make sense".

Connor nodded. "As I told you, Garin has always been loyal". He looked away from the screen, as though contemplating something. "To be honest", he continued, "I think that he just wanted us to follow him. He knew before he left the base on Tatooine that the ship he had stolen contained a tracking beacon, and he knew how to switch it off if he had wanted to".

Now it was Jordan's turn to nod in agreement. "Yes", he said. "I think he's leading us somewhere too. But where?"

"Admiral". A young, female crew member approached Jordan and saluted. Jordan nodded to indicate that she could speak. "We are due to make our final cooling down stop. Sensors indicate that the shuttle stopped several light years further ahead, around a small, virtually unexplored planet beyond the outer rim. We should be able to reach it in one more jump".

Jordan sighed. He had long been irritated by what he saw as a limitation in large battleships. They were too slow, he thought. "Alright", he said wearily. "Take us out of hyperspace".

Seconds after the Rebel ships had exited Hyperspace, alarms started to sound throughout – proximity alerts. Jordan winced as the deafening sound pierced his ears. "What is it?" he shouted.

"Sir!" the female crew member answered. "There are several small battle ships in front of us. They appear to be Jedi".

_Jedi_, Jordan thought as he considered his next move. _But… Grey Jedi, or not?_

"Try to get them on communicators", he ordered. There were over a dozen ships, and Jordan knew that if they were hostile they would struggle to overcome them.

Several agonising seconds of silence followed, as they tried to raise the Jedi ships on their communicators. The longer the silence went on, the more Jordan prepared himself to give the order to attack. But, just as he was about to, a voice echoed around the bridge.

"We mean you no harm", it said. "We are members of the Grey Order, and we have urgent matters to discuss with you. May we come aboard your ship?"

Jordan paused momentarily. Deep down he was greatly relieved to hear that the ships were not hostile, but he held a great distaste for the Grey Jedi and would prefer to keep them off his ship. He sighed. "You're welcome to board", he said reluctantly. The communication was ended. Jordan leaned back in his chair. "Someone get Admiral Connor over here as well", he ordered. "I'm not seeing those bastards on my own".

* * *

Three Jedi boarded the _Sholank_ – two men and one woman. They were dressed casually – the men wore brown jackets and baggy black trousers, and the woman a white top tucked in to brown pants. This was typical of the Greys, who made a point of avoiding the all-covering robes that had become typical of the Jedi Order. Neither Jordan nor Connor were fond of the Greys – they both believed that they were thrill seekers, and often caused more trouble than they were worth. But at least they were approachable – they didn't try to build up an air of mystery to keep people distant like the Jedi Order.

Both they and Admiral Connor had been escorted to the _Sholank_'s meeting room. This was a large, round room with a brown, circular table at the centre. The wall was all white, apart from the section that ran along the ship's hull which had been made into a window. The room was designed to hold twenty people, so with just five it still appeared empty.

They had been sat for several minutes and, save for a few pleasantries, no one had spoken. Jordan was getting impatient. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "You said you had something you needed to discuss", he said.

The Jedi looked at each other. None of them had revealed their names, but it was the woman who spoke. "First", she said hesitantly, "would you mind telling us your destination?"

Jordan frowned, but Connor remained still – he was sat back in his chair, his hands clasped in front of his face as though in contemplation. "Why are you…" Jordan began, but was interrupted.

"We just wish to find out how much you know about the current situation", the woman said. With this, Jordan looked over at Connor. He hated answering questions – whenever he was asked something he felt as though he was being interrogated. Connor, though, simply nodded.

Jordan sighed loudly, not bothering to hide his frustration. "We are pursuing a member of our crew", he said, slightly twisting the facts. "We're unsure of his destination, but our sensors indicate that he stopped in orbit around a distant planet". Jordan had decided that this was enough information to give them – he did not tell them that shortly before they had boarded the signal had disappeared. This meant that either the signal was being blocked somehow or that the ship was no longer there.

Again there was a pause as the Jedi glanced at each other. Then, hesitantly, as though she were revealing a secret, the woman spoke again. "Around a week ago, every member of our Order sensed a massive disturbance in the Force – something unlike anything any of us have ever felt before. It was massive, and the power that we sensed is, potentially, Galaxy threatening. At the instant that we felt it we were all overcome with… desire. Lust. We wanted that power, and in that instant we were willing to do anything – kill anyone – to get it.

"That feeling passed quickly, and the disturbance fell out of our sight. But in the last day or so it reappeared – weaker than before, but still shining like a beacon throughout the Galaxy. Any Force sensitive will be sensing what we are sensing".

Jordan was interested – there were echoes of Garin's story here – but he was anxious for them to get to the point. "And?" he said, impatiently.

"And…" the woman repeated. "The signal is coming from the place that, it appears, you are heading. And we must warn you… everyone will be heading to the same place. The Jedi, and the Alliance if they know about this. If this power falls into malevolent hands then it would be… very bad, to say the least. We request your help to prevent that from happening".

Jordan looked at Connor and could tell from his expression that he was thinking the same as him. Garin had been telling the truth. They both knew that if this… _orb_ that Garin warned them about was as powerful a weapon as he claimed then they had a responsibility to make sure that it didn't fall into Alliance hands.

Connor moved for the first time, taking his hands away from his face. "We've been told of… a _weapon_", he said. "The person we are following warned us that there is an artefact on this planet with devastating power… _Force_ power… and that there are already several parties trying to claim it. His intention is to prevent them from acquiring it, and we're beginning to think that we should aid him in his plans".

Jordan cleared his throat. "In other words", he added, "we agree to helping you prevent the Alliance from laying claim to this weapon. Hell… we'd be stupid if we didn't".

This seemed to please the Jedi. They thanked the two Admirals for their time, and were escorted back to their shuttles. Jordan and Connor were left alone in the meeting room. They sat facing each other in silence for several minutes.

Finally, Jordan spoke. "A weapon…", he breathed.

Connor nodded. "A weapon powerful enough to win this war for whoever controls it", he said, the anticipation lighting up his eyes. "We need to claim it for the Rebels".

Jordan smiled and nodded. He was glad that they were both on the same page. He leaned over to a console that had been built into the table and pressed several buttons, opening up communication with the bridge. "This is Admiral Jordan", he said. "Start making preparations for our final jump. We'll begin as soon as Admiral Connor is back aboard his ship".

The two men looked at each other one last time, and then Connor stood up and left, heading back to the hangar bay and back to his own ship. Jordan was left alone to contemplate what he had just heard.

* * *

Gabe let out a loud cry – the knife had dug deep into his lower back, and blood was quickly pouring down his legs. He had known that it was coming – he had seen in Jani's eyes that she intended to kill him, he simply didn't care anymore. But that didn't stop it hurting like hell. He fell forward towards the pedestal at the centre of the room – he was desperate to reach it before Jani could finish what she had started.

But he had fallen short. He started to drag himself forward, grunting in pain as he did so. Jani stalked him, following behind him. Her face was filled with glee – she had got what she wanted. When Gabe was inches from the pedestal, Jani walked over to him and put her foot on his back, squeezing him into the ground.

"Ah ah aah", she said menacingly. "It's not yours anymore. It's _mine_". She walked around in front of Gabe – between him and the fragment – and knelt down. She grabbed his hair and lifted his head up so that he was looking into her eyes.

"You were never anything to me", she growled. "Nothing. Nothing but a cheap fuck, a way to get the satisfaction that I needed. As soon as I found something better I got rid of you. And now you're dead, and the orb is mine".

With that, she stood up and headed toward Marc, intending to either take the orb from him or take his hand as she would have done before. But before she got three steps she stopped. She heard laughter – strained laughter, laughter through pain. It was Gabe.

She turned to face him and he dragged himself up so that he was sitting, leaning against the pedestal. He was still laughing – the sound grated on Jani.

She folder her arms across her chest. "What's funny?" she asked.

Gabe stopped laughing. "The orb isn't yours", he said. "It never was and it never will be. It's not yours, or mine, or anyone's. It belongs to him". He indicated towards Marc, who had slumped to the ground – he had started to drool.

Jani laughed. "Him?" she snorted. "He's nothing but a mindless vegetable. He can't even stand on his own".

Gabe shuffled in his spot, his face straining with the pain. "I don't know why he's like that", he said. "Perhaps his mind is inside the fragment still. But it doesn't matter. The orb won't work for anyone else. There's unlimited power inside it, but he's the only one who can access it."

"Why", Jani asked, bluntly.

Gabe smiled, but he didn't answer her. Not yet. "You've been getting voices in your head, haven't you?" he asked, though he didn't wait for an answer. "I know you have, because I've heard them as well. But haven't you ever listened to what they've been saying?"

"They tell me about the power –" Jani started, but was interrupted.

"Of course they do", he said. "That's how they lure you in. But after that, when the voices change. All they wanted was for us to bring Marc here. They didn't care about anything else – not you or me, or even the orb. Just him". He leaned forward, staring directly at Jani. "All we are", he said. "Is the method of delivery".

The notion made Jani angry, but she forced herself to keep her face composed. "Why?" she asked, not quite able to keep the viciousness out of her voice. "Why is he so important? Why would a weapon want him here?"

Gabe grunted. "It's not a weapon", he laughed. "It was never built in a warehouse, wasn't broken to keep its power from people. It wasn't broken. It _hatched_".

Jani was speechless. This was absurd, she thought. "So… what? It's an _egg_? And Marc is what came out when it hatched?" She laughed out loud. "This is ridiculous. Do you honestly expect me to believe this?"

But there was no answer. "Gabe?" she said again. But there was still no answer. Gabe was dead.

"At last", she smiled. "He's finally stopped talking". She strode over to the pedestal at the centre of the room where the second fragment lay. She didn't pick it up; instead, she gently ran her finger down the side of it. As she did so, a look of sheer ecstasy filled her face, and she cried with joy.

She knew that her goal was now within touching distance, and a cruel smile appeared on her face. She turned to Marc, who knew what she was going to do. His grip on the fragment he still held in his hand tightened.

"I'm going to take it away from you", Jani said, "and there is nothing that you can do to stop me". She seemed to enjoy watching Marc squirm. He knew that he wouldn't be able to fight her off; she was a Jedi, after all. He also knew that, despite having no chance of succeeding, he would try and fight her anyway; not out of some misguided sense of pride, but simply because he was now so consumed by the power of the fragment that the thought of being without it even for a second filled him with a sense of dread that he could barely control.

He screamed, and tried to run past her to the door, hoping to escape and at least prolong his time with the fragment. But his legs – and his mind – were still too slow. She moved too quickly for him, blocking his path. She grabbed him as he tried to run past her and spun him around, sending him tumbling in the direction that he had come from.

Marc lay there for several seconds trying to think of some way – any way – out of this situation. He heard Jani laugh quietly; a sound that grated, and filled him with anger. He stared at her, his rage quickly consuming him, and launched himself toward her. Any rational thought had deserted him; he swung his fists wildly at her, wanting desperately to wipe the smile from her face.

Jani laughed at him. He was fighting her with every ounce of strength that he had, but she just brushed him off as though he was nothing. Marc was knocked down again and again, and each time he got back on his feet and fought her again. Eventually, though, the pain he felt became stronger than his desperation to keep hold of the orb fragment.

He lay on the floor, motionless, while she slowly made her way towards him, smiling. Her eyes were filled with nothing but desire. She felt no pity or remorse, either for Marc or for Gabe, the man she used to love but betrayed. She knelt beside him, extended her hand towards him and wrapped her fingers around the orb fragment. She pulled, but Marc still had a firm grip on it.

A look of irritation passed over her face, and she started to pull viciously on the fragment, trying to dislodge it from Marc's grasp. She dragged him across the rough, sandy floor, and cuts appeared all over his body. After the third or fourth tug, the orb fragment slipped out of Marc's hand. He let out a pathetic moan – a sound that indicated he knew that he'd been beaten.

Jani, on the other hand, let out a primal cry of victory. It was a wordless yell that went on for several seconds, and sounded to the world around her that she had won. She strode over to where the second piece lay and picked it up. She pushed them towards each other, and was surprised when she encountered resistance – like two equal magnetic poles pushing each other away. She pushed with all her might, though, and the two pieces touched for the briefest of moments. It was enough, though. There was a bright flash of purple light which blinded both Jani and Marc. When they could see again, the orb lay on the ground, whole again after thousands of years.


	38. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Space opened up. It started with nothing more than a ripple, barely noticeable in the infinite blackness. Then a tiny crack formed – if anyone had looked directly into it they would have felt like they were looking at the whole universe at once, all contained in one speck.

And then that space was filled. A ship appeared – tiny, like it was so far away that it was barely visible. In a moment it grew, and grew, until the crack in space was overtaken by the ship. This is what happened when something came out of hyperspace.

The two Rebel cruisers appeared several hundred thousand kilometres away from the planet, flanked by fourteen smaller battle ships from the Grey Order. Jordan sat in his command chair. He felt most comfortable there – he felt as though he was in control of any situation as long as he was in that chair. But on this occasion he was nervous. The instant they had entered the vicinity of the planet the ship's alarms had sounded. Sensors had picked up what could only be described as a _fleet_ of Jedi battle ships, similar in design to those of the Grey Order.

The smaller ships did not worry him, however. It was the _Endor_'s presence that worried him. It had positioned itself in a geosynchronous orbit above the planet, between it and the Rebel ships. Jordan knew that they would have to get past it before they could make any attempt at landing on the planet.

"Admiral", a voice said. It was a young crew member – _they're all young_, Jordan thought bitterly – who handled communication. Jordan nodded. "We're being contacted by one of the Grey Jedi ships, sir".

Jordan sniffed. "Put them through", he sighed. They would probably want to discuss how they were going to deal with the _Endor_. Jordan knew that they would most likely not be able to.

A hologram appeared on the bridge – it was the female Grey Jedi that he had met earlier. She looked nervous. "Admiral Jordan", she said – her voice came through fuzzy, and difficult to understand. The _Endor _must have been sending out interference. "How are we going to deal with this situation? Our ships are not equipped to deal with a Star Destroyer".

Jordan was silent, contemplating his answer. What he wanted to do was turn around and leave – the _Endor_ was far too powerful for them to overcome it. But he knew they couldn't retreat without at least attempting to get past – the potential prize was much too valuable. Which left one option – attack.

He breathed in deeply. "OK", he said. "Here's what we need to d-".

He was interrupted by one of his crew. "Sir!" he shouted. "I'm getting readings through on our sensors. _Impossible_ readings".

_I don't have time for this_, Jordan thought. "What sort of readings?" he asked.

There was a slight pause. "It… it's a massive burst of energy", he said. "Like a massive explosion, only it's all contained in a single spot on the planet. Hold on, I'll put it on screen". He tapped several buttons and an image of the planet appeared on the view screen.

Jordan looked wide eyed at the image. At first he couldn't see anything, but then he caught sight of a purple glow. It was tiny at first but it quickly grew and grew until it enveloped the whole planet, and the ships around it. It was… _so bright_. Jordan covered his eyes, but the brightness still hurt them.

It lasted for just a few moments, but it took a full minute before anyone could regain their composure.

"Readings", Jordan said, almost absent mindedly. When there was no response, he looked to the side. "Readings!" he shouted.

This snapped the crew out of their daze. Several of them started to hurriedly tap away at their consoles. After a while, one of them answered. "The energy surge has dissipated", the girl said. "But there's still a fluctuation on the planet… I don't… It reads like a hyperspace opening".

"…what?" Jordan asked, dumfounded.

"Sorry sir", the girl said. "That's the only way I can describe it. It looks like something has ripped a hole in space, like the hyperspace drive does when it activates. Only, when the go into hyperspace the rip is opened and closed in an instant to prevent damage to the fabric of space. Whatever is happening on the planet, the rip is not closing".

Jordan considered this for a while. He knew the basics of what hyperspace was about – when activated, the hyperspace engines opened up a… gateway of sorts, and pushed the ships through that hole. "What sort of damage could it cause?" he asked.

"Unknown, sir", the girl answered. "It appears to be of a fixed size – a hole about six inches in diameter. As long as it remains stable it shouldn't cause any damage. But if it starts to increase in size there's no telling what sort of damage it could do".

Jordan looked around. In all the excitement he had forgotten that he had been in the middle of a conversation with one of the Greys. The line of communication was still open, but the hologram was not showing anyone. She must have moved away from her console.

Jordan sat back in his chair. "Hello", he said into the communicator. "Is anyone there".

An ominous silence followed, lasting far too long. Jordan knew that it was too quiet out there. No one was moving – not them or the _Endor_, or any of the Jedi. That worried him.

Suddenly a man – unfamiliar, but young – appeared in the holographic projection on the bridge. His eyes were wide and frightened, and Jordan saw what he thought was blood dripping from his head.

"You have to get out of here!" he screamed, his voice sounding hysterical. "Get away from here now! They… they've all gone _mad_!"

Jordan started to speak – to ask the man what he was talking about – but hands appeared around the man, from either side. He was grabbed from all sides – a dozen hands gripping at him. The man started to scream – to plead for them to let him go. The sound pierced through to Jordan's soul, terrifying him.

Then faces appeared – the faces of the Grey Jedi. Jordan recognised some of them, but now they were twisted in rage and madness. They started to bite the man, to tear away his flesh and his bone. All the while he screamed and screamed.

The screaming lasted until another face appeared. It was the woman – the female Grey who had boarded the _Sholank_, who had seemed to level headed and calm. She was bleeding from her eye – the socket was empty, as though something had ripped the eye out of its socket – and her face was twisted in the same rage that the others were. She leant in close to the screaming man – towards his neck – and then she sunk her teeth into the front of his neck and ripped it open.

The man gurgled momentarily, and then he fell to the floor. The hands quickly dragged him away, and Jordan was left staring – stunned – at empty space.

No one moved. No one spoke. No one even blinked.

The ship shook suddenly, shaking people – some people – out of their shocked daze. Jordan shook his head. "Wh…" he started, and then swallowed. "Report!" he shouted.

The girl – who was the only person to move – tapped her console. "One of the Grey Jedi ships has opened fire on us, sir", she shouted back.

"Bring it upon the screen", Jordan ordered. A moment later, the view screen was filled with images of the ships surrounding the _Sholank_. The Grey Jedi ships were mostly drifting, out of control. One of them had turned towards the _Sholank_ and had fired on it, but now it made no signs that it was going to continue. Three of the Grey ships had opened fire on each other – one of them was destroyed as the stunned Rebel crew looked on.

Further past the Grey ships, Jordan could see that the Jedi Order ships were in a similar state. Whatever had affected the Greys, he realised, had also affected the Jedi. They had all lost their minds. And in the middle of it all, the _Endor_ sat, still and silent.

* * *

_What is going on?_ Jordan thought.


	39. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

_Cold. So cold. _

_The moon shone bright red. Marc is four._

_The other children were frightened. Where has our moon gone? Some cried. But Marc was not afraid. He knew that the end of the world could not hurt him._

_His brother was upset. He was not smiling. He was telling mother and father that he was leaving. _

_His brother had been killed. His mother cried. His father drank. He felt numb._

_His brother is lying on the ground, dying. There is a hole through his chest. Marc can see the life falling away from him. He sees his brothers face turn towards him, and the tears flowing from his eyes. Why are you crying? Marc asks. His brother opens his mouth, and a wail escapes – dull at first, but growing and growing into a horrible cry of pain. It seems to go on forever. Marc covers his ears and shuts his eyes, but it does not keep the noise out. It pierces through to his very soul._

_He sees himself, older. He is shrouded in darkness, but this does not concern him. He knows now what he must do._

_He sees billions die, and sees his friends suffer. But he knows that it must happen. If we are to be saved, he knows it must happen._

_He is frightened of what he will do._

_He sees the orb a thousand times. He basks in its glow, and feels the exquisite pain that is its reward. He knows that the orb is life. That it is death. The orb is everything. _

_The stars will dim. Worlds will crumble. Billions will cry out in pain. And he will rejoice, because he will become saviour._

* * *

Jani did not understand. The orb was whole again but it would not shine for her. She could sense the power within it, but it was as though it was just beyond her fingertips. She shook it, and squeezed it, and willed it to let her in. But it stayed still and silent. She let out a howl of rage and frustration, a primal sound that came from her soul.

"_Why won't it open?_" she screamed. She rounded on Marc. "You've done something to it haven't you? You've told it to reject me?"

Marc stayed silent. If Jani had looked closer she would have seen the dull purple colour that his eyes had become, but she was becoming hysterical. She had longed with all her heart for the orb to accept her, to allow her in, and she was devastated at its rejection.

She gritted her teeth. The rage kept building and building, until it enveloped her completely. _"__I'll kill you!"_ she screamed, before diving on Marc and wrapping her hands tightly around his throat. She squeezed as much as she could, for as long as she could. Marc did not struggle. He did not whimper, or try to cry out. He was still as a rock. Jani watched as the life drained away from his eyes.

When he was dead she realised that her anger had not gone. She wanted to _crush_ something, to _destroy everything_. She saw the crumpled figure of Elle, motionless save for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She moved towards her, wanting to hurt her, to make her suffer like she was suffering. She moved her hand out toward Elle, and willed the force to bend the bone in her finger until it snapped. The pain caused Elle to wake, screaming.

* * *

Garin clutched the wound in his side. He had piloted his ship into this system, with the Rebel cruisers following behind. As soon as he had entered orbit he had jettisoned himself in an escape pod. The escape pod had crashed in the mountains close to the temple, but the landing had injured him. His breathing was shallow, and with each step the pain shot through him like a dagger. But he knew that there was something monumental happening, and he knew that it could mean the death of everybody. He was determined to prevent it.

Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed around him. He couldn't be sure who the scream had come from, but he knew that he had to hurry. He quickened his pace, though the pain was unbearable. He pulled the blaster from his holster and held it tightly in his hand.

* * *

"This is beyond madness". Admirals Connor and Jordan were on board their ships, high above the surface of the planet. At first the Jedi ships had been mostly still and silent, but after several minutes they had all burst into life. Many of them had headed straight toward the planet, as though they were racing to get there. But they also desperately tried to stop the other ships getting there before them, by any means necessary.

It was a blood bath, made worse by the fact that the _Endor_ had decided to join the chaos. It had set its heavy weapons against the two Rebel cruisers, and had dedicated its smaller weapons to destroying any other ship that came within range. Almost a dozen Jedi battle ships had already been destroyed, by the _Endor_ or by other Jedi.

The Rebel cruisers had both sustained heavy damage before they had even had chance to respond. Most of the damage had been caused by the _Endor_, but they also had to contend with being caught in the Jedi cross fire. Even when they had finally managed to open fire on the _Endor_, Jordan knew that they wouldn't be able to cause it enough damage to destroy it.

Debris surrounded everything, adding even more danger to the battle.

"I know it is", Connor said through his communicator. "But no one seems willing to back off, and we have no choice but to fight them".

"But the Jedi", Jordan said. "They've all lost their minds. They don't care about us anymore, they don't even care about the people on their side. All they seem to want is to get down to that planet and take whatever is down there for themselves, and they won't think for a second about killing anyone who gets in their way".

Connor sat silent. He knew that his old friend was right. A short while ago the battle had suddenly escalated. Jedi ships had turned on each other, and on everyone else. There were no longer any sides to this battle, only people who wanted to survive. He knew that the only sensible course of action was to withdraw. But he also knew that Garin was down there, and he had already left him behind once. He wasn't about to do it again.

"Jordan", he said. "Take your ship and get out of here. We'll stay and wait for a signal from Garin on the surface".

Admiral Jordan looked at his friend. "You don't expect me to actually leave you here, do you? I'm not letting you take all the glory".

Connor smiled. "I guess not", he said.

Their communication was cut short as a devastating blast from the _Endor_ hit the side of Connor's ship. It blew a hole which tore through the engine bay, and caused catastrophic damage. Sirens erupted all over the ship warning the crew that the ship was unstable. Connor had been thrown across the bridge by the impact, and his leg was broken badly. He looked around and saw his crew dead or dying. He struggled to pull himself to a communication terminal. He had to order his crew to the escape pods. But it was too late. The ship began to break apart. A rip tore through the bridge, and the pressure sucked Connor out into space.

Jordan saw all of this devastation on his monitors. At first he could not believe what his eyes were seeing. The shock rendered him motionless. But a blast hit his ship as well, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the same fate befell him and his crew.

"Set a course away from here and engage", he ordered.

* * *

Garin still stumbled across the jagged rocks on the planet's surface. Above him the skies were on fire – wreckage from the battle high above was tumbling toward the planet. He was losing blood rapidly despite the makeshift bandage he had wrapped around his wound. He was beginning to feel weak, and his vision was becoming blurred. He knew that he would likely not survive this injury – even if he made it to the temple there was no guarantee he would find a way off this world.

He tried to focus on the mission at hand. He had to find this temple and destroy whatever it was that threatened the Galaxy. His mind kept wandering back to the first time he met the boy Marc. To how wide-eyed and full of childish glee he'd been. It occurred to him that he would never see that expression again – never have someone begging him to tell stories of his adventures, or the gratitude from someone that he had just helped. He realised then just how much he wanted to _live_.

* * *

Jani's attention was still focussed on Elle, and causing her as much suffering as she could. Elle had once again passed out, this time from the pain, but Jani was merciless.

Unnoticed, the orb began to pulse with purple light - slowly at first, perhaps once every 10 seconds, but gradually increasing infrequency until it resembled a heart-beat. It began to glow brighter and brighter, and eventually Jani noticed it and turned around. She did not understand what was happening, but she bathed in the orb's glow, feeling the power coming from deep inside it.

It was then that she heard a sudden intake of breath. She turned around again, looking toward Elle, but she knew that it had come from a different direction. Marc opened his eyes.

* * *

Garin emerged into the canyon which sheltered the temple from the harsh winds. A trail of blood traced back along the path that he had taken. By this point he could barely stand – his feet felt like they weighed tons, and each step he took sent stabs of pain through his body.

He had begun to mumble to himself – incoherent ramblings. Sometimes he might shout the names of the people he has seen die. He no longer knew where he was or why he was walking, but his feet moved by themselves. The blaster he had in his hand was dangling loosely from a finger. His uniform was stained with blood.

He slowly – very slowly – approached the door to the temple, where, inexplicably, he stopped. His forced his head to look upward, and he saw the sky on _fire_. The debris from the battle raging high above was raining down on the planet, filling the sky with flame.

To Garin, it looked beautiful.

He fell forward, slowly. He tried at the last second to move his hands forward to cushion his fall, but he couldn't get them to move.

"I… I…" he struggled to say. There was no one there to hear.

"I don't want to die".

And then he did.

* * *

Marc stood. His eyes were now glowing bright purple, and the orb was pulsing now as though it were a heartbeat. Jani stood open mouthed, not believing what she was seeing. She moved sideways toward the orb, which was still lying on the ground. She didn't take her eyes off Marc for a second as she knelt down to pick it up. Marc simply stood watching her, a blank expression on his face.

Elle moved back toward Elle, and in one swift motion she grabbed the unconscious woman and lifted her up so that she stood in front of her, like a human shield. She grabbed her light sabre with the hand that held the orb, and extended it.

"Don't… _don't come any closer!_" she screamed, unable to hide the panic in her voice. "_I swear I'll kill her!_"

She started to move backward toward the exit, dragging Elle's motionless body along with her. Marc moved forward in sync with her, keeping the same amount of distance between them.

They slowly made their way out of the temple, Jani moving backwards and Marc following silently. The blank expression he wore never even flickered. As Jani moved she tripped over the lifeless corpse of Garin that was strewn across the entrance. Her feet stepped in the puddle of his blood, and every step she took from then left a red footprint.

Jani knew before she reached the cliff that she had backed herself into a corner. She had nowhere to go, and no way out. She decided to fight. She moved her hand out toward Marc, intending to push him backwards with the force and then rush him with her light sabre. But nothing happened. Marc didn't fall backward. He didn't even blink.

Marc spoke then. Or… his mouth moved. Jani saw his mouth move. But the sound didn't come from him. It came from the orb that she held in her hand. It said: **The Galaxy you know is coming to an end**. And as she heard the words she saw a vision of a dark figure surrounded by _fire_. A flame that she knew would consume the entire Galaxy, and change it in ways she didn't dare imagine. She saw the dark figures laughing face, and she recognised it.

It was Marc.

She screamed as the vision engulfed her. The orb glowed bright, so bright that if anyone on the ships above were looking down they too would have seen it. The light shocked Jani so much that she fell backward, dropping the orb and loosening her grip on Elle, who was still unconscious.

She fell backward, still screaming, over the cliff edge.

As the scream grew quieter, the planet started to shake – growing more and more violent. Marc slowly started to come out of his trance. He saw the scene in front of him – both the orb and Elle were going to fall over the cliff. In a panic, he darted forward, and dived toward the edge with his hand outstretched.

His hand fell first on the orb, which he gathered close to his chest.

He swung his other arm around toward Elle, but it was too late. She too fell over the edge.

Marc was devastated. He was immediately consumed by guilt. But… was that an engine he could hear over the rumbling?

* * *

As though responding to his thoughts, the Raven rose from under the cliff. Marc saw Elle's body lying, still breathing, on the top. She had fallen and landed on the ship. Marc cried tears of joy and relief.


	40. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Minutes later and the _Raven_ was now safely in deep space, far from the battle which still raged behind them. Elle was still unconscious, and Marc sat at her bedside. He was conflicted about the decision he had made back on the planet. He was sure that he had meant to reach for Elle first, but his hand went to the orb. It was a mistake that had almost cost the woman he thought he loved her life. But was it a mistake? He _wanted_ the orb and the power that it held, but he wanted it for a purpose. _A means to an end_, he thought to himself. _A tool_. But it wasn't worth giving up Elle.

He looked down at her laying on the bed. She was beautiful. He reached towards her and stroked her cheek, smiling. He tried to concentrate on _her_. On making sure that she was safe. But a thought had crossed his mind a long time ago that he couldn't shake off. It had planted itself in his head and it festered there like a tumour, and it kept growing and growing. He knew that soon it might consume him.

He thought back over all of the events that had led him here. He thought about his parents. He thought about the orb, and the Jedi, and the Alliance and the Rebels. He thought about Jani, and how she'd been consumed by the orb – the same orb that was invading his own mind. Now that he knew the kind of conflict that had been raging in her mind, should he still hate her? He didn't know the answer.

He couldn't resist any longer. He kissed Elle gently on the cheek and stood up.

* * *

Garr and Batalla sat in the _Raven's_ cockpit. They knew that they'd involved themselves in something dangerous. After seeing the lengths that people were willing to go to to possess the orb they quietly wondered whether they should take it for themselves. That this thought was there at all scared them – it wasn't the kind of thing they were used to thinking, and after hearing Jani's explanation of the way the orb invades your mind they were frightened that it had turned to them.

Garr looked at Batalla. "Did we do right?" he asked her. "Coming back to help, I mean. With a battle that massive there was a good chance that the orb – along with everyone on that planet – would have been destroyed". He paused, thinking. Batalla, as ever, stayed silent. "It's too dangerous to keep on this ship. Part of me wants nothing more than to land on the nearest planet and bury it as deep as I can, along with anyone who would argue with me". His eyes began to water. "But there's another part of me that wants to go down to the cargo bay right now and just _touch_ it. To feel it getting into my mind, and to take all of the power that's inside it. And that frightens me".

Batalla looked at her friend. She understood what he was feeling – she was feeling the exact same things. She stood up, walked over to Garr and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Garr smiled at her and put his hand over hers. "Still", he said, "things are looking up. No one's tried to kill us for, what, a few hours. I could get used to this". Batalla smiled and sat down.

Garr looked out of the cockpit window. _The stars are exceptionally beautiful today_, he thought. _I wonder if they know what's about to hit them._

He punched in some co-ordinates, looked sideways at Batalla and then stood and walked away. Batalla watched him solemnly until he was out of sight.

* * *

Elle awoke with a start. She was alone, and she was frightened. "Hello", she called. "Is anyone there?" A familiar face poked around the wall. She recognised Garr, but the left side of his face was covered in bandages. "Hi", he said. "Welcome back to the land of the living".

Elle smiled faintly. "Did we win?" she asked.

"Depends what you class as winning", Garr said solemnly. "We have a thing in our cargo bay that everyone seems willing to kill us to get. And I mean _everyone._ The Alliance, the Rebels, the Jedi – hell, I wouldn't be surprised if a bunch of Sith turned up to try and get that thing. As long as it's on this ship we're not safe".

Elle sighed. She'd hoped that once they'd found Marc everything would be alright. How could Jani betray _everyone_ like that? Even the man she loved. Elle didn't understand as much about the orb as the others but she knew that it was at least partly responsible for everything that had happened. She wished it was somewhere – anywhere – else.

* * *

Marc stood in the cargo bay. The orb had been put inside a thick metal crate, as though that would make any difference to its pull. He rested his hand on the top of the crate. He could feel the orb pulsing inside, and he found himself having to fight off the urge to open the crate and touch the it. He knew that he was close to the edge, and that it would only take a slight nudge to push him over.

_The Force_, came a voice in his head. _That's what the problem is. It's what the problem has always been. It's like the most devastating weapon in the Universe, that anyone can use if they learn how. All it does is corrupt. If you looked back as far as you could into the past, at every danger that had ever threatened the Galaxy, the one thing they all have in common is the Force._

_But_, said another voice, his own, _they were all stopped by the Force as well. The Force has saved the Galaxy as many times as it's threatened it._

_But that doesn't justify its existence,_ the first voice came again. _That it prevents threats that are of its own making doesn't make it right._

The argument raged on in his head. After a while, an idea started to form in his head. A terrible idea. An idea that could damage everything, that could take away the things he loved. But was it _his_ idea, or was it the _orb's?_ The fact that he couldn't tell meant that he could never act on it – at least until he was sure one way or the other.

He sighed.

"That was a big sigh", Elle's voice came from behind him. He turned around – she was stood in the doorway, a concerned expression on her face. Marc felt another pang of guilt – her face was a mess, bruised and beaten, and she needed to use a stick to support herself with her leg broken. Marc realised that his hand was still on the crate, and he moved it hurriedly. "Do you want to talk?"

Marc thought about it. He really did want to talk about it, but he was scared that she wouldn't understand. He shook his head slowly. Elle limped towards him, and Marc moved quickly to support her. Elle looked at the crate. She took Marc's hand in hers, and moved in closer.

"We have to destroy it", she said after a while. "It shouldn't be our responsibility, but it is and we have to find a way. It's too dangerous to keep". She looked into Marc's eyes. "We have to destroy it".

Marc stood silent.

* * *

_Hi. That's the end of part one of this planned trilogy. Hopefully, once I've drafted all three I'll find the time to go back and redraft this part of the story, because I'm not really happy with it._

_Anyway, the story is continued in 'Star Wars Beginning and Endings Part 2: Beginnings', in which Marc descends into madness, Elle finds that there is a lot more inside her than she thought, the Jedi have gone insane, and the Sith make an unwelcome appearance._


End file.
